


Unleashed

by Otaku_girl



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, BDSM, Begging, Bite Play, Biting, Bondage, Bondage and Discipline, Breathplay, Casual Kink, Collars, Consensual, Consent, Consent Play, Corsetry, D/s, Dominance, Dominant Masochism, Dominant/Submissive, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Ecto-Tongue (Undertale), Edging, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Feels, Female Reader, Fetlife, Fisting, Forced Orgasm, Happy Ending, Kink, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, M/M, M/S, Masochism, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, More tags to follow, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Pairings, Multiple Sex Positions, Multiple Universes Colliding, My First Undertale Fanfic, NSFW, OK this developed a plot, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Painplay, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behaviour, Power Dynamics, Power Exchange, Power Play, RACK - Freeform, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader-Insert, Riding Crops, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Sadism, Safewords, Semi-Public Sex, Skeleton Sex (Undertale), Sugar Daddy, Surface timeline, Swapfell, Threesome, Throuple, Traffic Light System, Well technically second, Where did that plot come from, boot licking, breath play, but I started this first so, crops, fellswap, fireplay, mention of unsafe play, more to be added - Freeform, or is that fellswap? Fellswap, paddles, plot what plot?, safe sane consensual kink, safeword, switch/submissive, whiplr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-10-29 04:40:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17801228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otaku_girl/pseuds/Otaku_girl
Summary: Between two part-time jobs and coursework, you don’t have time to look for a serious vanilla relationship - much less something more suited to your tastes. Turns out a certain Mutt didn’t get the memo.Shameless reader-insert fic, where a misunderstanding in the S&M club where you work as a bartender leads to sexy, kinky shenanigans with everyone's favourite Swapfell brothers (and a few more monsters on the way~).Slow-build: this was meant to be a PWP, but… I think it may develop a plot. SwapFell Papyrus (Mutt), SwapFell Sans. This is what happens when I can’t find enough stories featuring Mutt, apparently. I’m... sorry? #SorryNotSorry





	1. Chapter One: Sweet Release

**Author's Note:**

> Authors notes: this...isn’t the thing I’ve been working on. This is me trying to get a brainworm out, as I am freaking in love with @Tyrant_Tortoise’s ‘Mutt’ (Is he Swapfell or Fellswap? I still can’t tell the freaking difference, I’m that newb to the fandom). I’m not entirely sure if Mutt Papyrus is actually part of a cannon or it’s just from their awesome ‘Skeleton Squatters and the Landlady’ fic (that is currently my everything, dear sweet babies Axe and Mutt). 
> 
> So… this is going to be a lot less plot-heavy than the things I usually work on. I’m focusing more on a long Sans/Reader/Grillby idea at the moment, but expect the odd update here as my Mutt obsession gets out of control - er, I mean, when the mood strikes, or if anyone actually wants to read more, I might update a bit more frequently~
> 
>  
> 
> Also...it’s kind hand-wavy about ‘how did Swapfell get to the surface world?’ So sssh just (hopefully) enjoy the Mutt smut… heh.

“Please, please, please,  _ please  _ [y/n]!”

Balancing the phone between your ear and your shoulder, you gather up the last of your papers, stuffing books into your bag as you go. “I told you, Jen, I really can’t - I’ve got a test to study for this week, plus two papers due by Friday. Tonight’s my one night off from the store and the club. Can’t you ask Em?”

“She can’t make it - she’s got a cram session all afternoon. You know what she’s like. C’mon, please - I’ll even take one of your crazy Saturday shifts, and I’ll cover your tab next time you want a night off. Tuesdays are dead quiet; it’s like being paid to study, honest.” Jen pleads. You roll your eyes.

_ If it’s that easy, why don’t you keep the shift and study while you’re working?  _ “I like my ‘crazy Saturday shifts’. Do you know how many tips I get on a busy night? Plus, you know Saturdays are the best days for finding some hot, no-strings, sexy-” You grin at the loud groan Jen lets out. For someone who literally works in a bdsm club, Jen can be such a prude. 

“I will cover your tab for three nights if you both cover my shift and  _ never share details of your sex life with me again. _ You know I wouldn’t ask if this wasn’t an emergency…”

Sighing, you wave goodbye to the librarian as you make your way outside. She’s got a good point; in your two, nearly three years of working together, Jen had never asked for a last-minute favour outside of emergencies. “Fine. But I swear, if Tuesdays are like, messy play afternoon or some shit” you snort as your own words register with you “then you are paying for my dry cleaning. Got it?”

“Thank you! It’ll just be the odd regular, maybe one or two drop-ins too scared to come after sundown when the real fun begins. Honest. Nothing fun ever happens on a Tuesday. You’ve got my word.”

 

* * *

 

Banging on the dented metal back door, you send a cheery wave to the blinking security camera. Within moments, the door opens out, sending out a blast of pleasantly warm air. 

“Heya Coco. I didn’t know you work day shifts” You greet the friendly dog monster. At nearly eight foot tall, Coco has to be one of the most intimidating monsters on staff. Despite her huge size and intimidating stature, she’s always been a bit of a fluff ball to you and the rest of the staff. “Here I was thinking we got you all to ourselves on the weekends.”

“Someone had to draw the short straw.” She shrugs, grinning down at you.  _ Do not pet the giant, fluffy bipedal Pomeranian  dog monster. Do not pet her. She could definitely snap me in two.  _ You can’t help but grin as you see the corner of her pink, floppy tongue poking out between sharp canines.  _ Too cute!  _ “ Speaking of which - covering for Jen?”

You nod, slipping off your scarf and winter coat. While spring should be just around the corner, it still feels bitterly cold to you. “Big test coming up apparently.” Coco follows you into the employee changing room, guard with her back turned to you lest anyone else tries to enter whilst you get changed. 

“Don’t you have the same big tests coming up?” She asks, sending a knowing look at you over her shoulder. 

“Sure do! You know me though, I’m the queen of multi-tasking. Jen said it’d be an easy one; plus this way I don’t have to pay entry or back room fees for my next three nights out.” You declare cheerfully, as you shimmy out of your sweater and baggy jeans combo.

Coco snorts. “Staff don’t have to pay those during their off hours, [y/n]. You’re too soft with her. You shouldn’t let people take advantage of you like this.” 

“Eh; it’s not taking advantage if it’s between friends, Co. Plus technically Jen’s doing me a favour; you know I need all the extra hours I can get. Would you mind?” You ask Coco, turning around so she can help lace you into the black and silver corset. Far from one of your favourite ones, you are just glad you left it on the back seat of your car after your last little night of fun. If you had tried making the trip back to your shitty studio apartment ten blocks from the wrong side of campus, there’s no way you would have made it back in time for your shift. 

“We worry about you. I worry about you, [y/n]. You’re always working on something. Have you considered…” You cut Coco off before she can finish. It felt like you’d been over this a hundred times.  _ It’s not like I haven’t been tempted. _

You love your jobs. Well, you love working part-time at Sweet Release. You had found the place shortly after moving to town for University two, nearly three years previously. The first S&M club that allowed both monster and human clientele day-in, day-out without turning it into some kind of niche fetish night. You had known straight away that you wanted to spend every free moment there. Your small-town had been a bit… vanilla, for your tastes.   

Snagging a part-time job behind the bar had been pretty perfect. Before you knew it, you were helping out with the busier weekend shifts, splitting your time between bartending, waitressing, and helping out in the public playrooms as an overseer to make sure safewords are being adhered to and house rules are being followed. 

The money’s pretty good for part-time, but it’s still nowhere near enough to cover rent, classes, and expenses. You had picked up a second part-time job at the local grocery store not long after. You had your eye out for a third job if you could swing it, hopefully at the library, so it can fit around your already packed schedule. 

This wasn’t the first time a well-meaning friend had suggested you try your hand at another type of job at the club. Being a House Sub, Slave, Domme or Switch would pay more than enough to cover your bills and then some if you picked up a few regulars.  _ And therein lies the problem. _

“No, Coco. You know I don’t do serious, or regular. One-offs and no-strings nights of passion are more my kind of deal. It’d be a disaster for everyone involved, I’d never be able to show my face here again, yadda yadda yadda, and then where would I go to get my regular kinky fix?” You smile at her to take the bite out of your words. You didn’t mean to snap, but the pressure was starting to get to you.  _ If only I had someone to split the bills with, maybe things wouldn’t be quite as bad.  _

Shaking your head, you dismiss the thought before it can take root again.  _ Snap out of it. You’re not ready for that kind of shit right now, and you know it. Just be happy with what you’ve got; it’s more than most people can say. _

“Besides, I’ve been promised Tuesdays are practically dead.”  _ Did Coco just laugh at that? Why... _ “What’s the worst that could happen?”

 

* * *

 

_ So far, so good.  _ Three hours in, and you’ve barely seen a dozen customers in your end of the club. You can hear the tell-tale low thrum of chatter, music, and dull thuds of impact drifting across from the open play spaces just down the hall.  _ Seems like all the day players come fully equipped and ready to go.  _

The bar was clean, the bottles practically sparkling under the dim lights. You had even cleaned every last glass and finished off the prep work ready for the evening shift.  _ It can’t hurt to pull out just one textbook, right?  _ Scanning the bar quickly, you eye the nervous guy - human, early 20s - sitting by himself at a booth in the corner, a single beer slowly having its label shredded as he eyes the corridor leading to the main playroom. A pair of monsters - a spider, you hadn’t caught either of their names, and a part-lizard, sat across from each other at another table off to one side, chatting nervously.  _ First, maybe second date? Definitely negotiating hard limits going by that blush.  _

Ducking through the staff only door behind the bar, you grab a couple of books and a pen from your bag.  _ Might as well get something productive done with the rest of my shift. Only... four more hours to go. Great.  _ Letting out a sign, you tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.  _ Might as well grab a snack while I’m here.  _ Pulling out a packet of granola bars, you grab a couple to keep you going.  _ I really should have picked something up after class.  _

You slip back into the bar, scanning the room for any new customers as you go. Placing your books under the counter, you keep an eye out.  _ Couple still discussing limits? Check. Oh go new guy, looks like he finally got up the nerve to head into the fun zone.  _ You smile to yourself, slipping around the bartop to grab the shredded remains of his bottle label.  _ Good for him. Maybe I’ll just take a peek and see how he’s doing- _

As you turn, you register a burnt, rusty orange glow and a lazy haze of purple smoke before you run face-first into a leather-clad... ribcage?

“Holy shit!” You swear, blush burning your cheeks. “Sorry about that; wasn’t looking where I was going.” You laugh nervously, as you duck back behind the bar. Discarding the rubbish quickly, you glance back over your shoulder.  _ How the fuck did I miss him coming in?  _ You berate yourself. Somehow, you hadn’t spotted the tall, slim skeleton monster.  _ He’s got to be at least seven feet fall, easy.  _ Biting your lip, you try to will away your blush. From the tip of his dirt-encrusted leather boots, to his fluffy hood topped head, he is… pretty much the epitome of a BDSM club cliche.  _If he's got a leather harness under that jacket, I might just lose it._

Slim, skinny-fit black jeans cling to his skeletal frame, a matching black and gold belt wrapped around his pelvis. Your eyes flick down to his fingerless glove-encased hands, as he unzips the black and gold fur-lined hoodie. A long, slender cigarette hangs from between wicked looking teeth.  _ Are those gold incisors?  _ Two long, sharpened gold teeth glint in the dull light. A puff of purple-tinged smoke lazily drifts out from between his jawbones. 

“like what you see, darlin’?” His voice takes you by surprise. It’s deeper than you expected, his low, smoky timbre edged with a growl. You drag your eyes up his long, lean form. You pause when you reach his collar. A thick band of red leather with wicked gold spikes encircles his cervical vertebra, a simple gold tag with the word ‘Mutt’ stamped into it lays on his breastbone.  _ Down, girl. No eye-fucking the customers.  _ Forcing your eyes up, you take in his smirk, the orange-red glow of his eyelights watching you knowingly. 

You snort.  _ Great. Another poser wanting to play with the big boys. Jen’s gonna owe me double for this.  _ “Sorry about that, I didn’t see you there. What can I get’cha?” You offer him your best customer service smile. You clench your jaw unconsciously as you watch him eye you in return, his gaze moving down to take in your corset-clag figure and tight black skinny jeans that looked nearly painted on. “Eyes up here, pal, or I’ll need to start charging you.” You joke, a sharp edge to your voice. 

_ He looks like a big, lazy cat; all sharp teeth and no motivation, unless you poke him with a stick.  _ You have to hold in a snort at the mental image.  _I guess he's the one who'd be doing the poking._

“i can think of a thing or two.” He winks at you.  _ How the heck does it do that without any eyelids?  _ You eye him curiously. You have never seen a skeleton monster in person before, much less so up close and personal. “know how to make a michelada?”

Wracking your brain, you eye the bottles behind you.  _ Mexican beer, lime juice, Worcestershire sauce… do we have any soy sauce? Check. Just missing one thing.  _ “No can do I’m afraid; we’re fresh out of hot sauce. I can whip you up a bloody mary if you’re after something a little spicy?” You offer. 

His smirk seems to spread as he reaches into his pocket once again. “good thing i brought my own.” You look between him and the bottle incredulously.  _ Who carries around their own hot sauce?  _ Shaking your head, you quickly set about grabbing the right bottles, mixing a tall glass and adding a small twirl of lime to the rim. You pour a generous shot of hot sauce over the ice, sliding both bottles across to him. 

“keep the change.” Your smile turns a touch more genuine as you pocked the generous tip. Turning back to put the bottles away, you hold in a sign as you see him settling in on a bar stall. A small pile of ash gathers beneath the tip of his cigarette, marring your previously immaculate counter. You slide an ashtray beneath it, making a point to clean up his debris as you go.

“You must be new here. Smoking’s only allowed in here and in room three, unless you go for one of the private rooms that allow fire play; then we’re usually a bit more lenient. You’ve picked a bit of a quiet day, but if you’re feeling nervous, I can get someone to show you around.” You offer, when it becomes clear he has no intention of leaving you to your books. 

He lets out a low laugh. “that’s cute. i was about to offer you the same.” You watch incredulously as he picked up the hot sauce, drinking straight from the bottle.  _ Did he mean to do that? Or is he just trying to play it cool? _

“this your first night? i’d be happy to… show you the ropes.” He licks a stray drop of sauce from a glinting gold tooth. You roll your eyes, ready to reply when you catch Coco’s eye. You wave her off.  _ Protective fluffball.  _ “huh. not new then. i’ve never seen you around; i’d remember such a pretty face.” 

“I could say the same to you; Mutt, is it?” You ask, reaching out to touch the tag hanging from his collar. Hard, cool fingers wrap around your own, squeezing out a warning. His bones feel rough, littered with tiny nics and chips. “No touching; gotcha. I usually work weekends, just covering for a friend today so no need to worry. I’ll be out of your way in no time.” You hold up your other hand in surrender. The longer he holds on, the more uneasy you begin to feel. Your eyes dart back to the side door, willing Coco to return. 

“not the collar.” He slowly releases your hand, watching as you slowly take a step back, then another. “though i would love to feel those hands elsewhere if you’re offerin’” He winks, taking a long, slow drag on his cigarette. You watch the purple smoke as it puffs around him in a billowing cloud. “never seen echo flower cigs before?” You shake your head, reaching for one of the sealed bottles of water beneath the counter. The manager kept the staff well stocked with tiny bottles, so no-one had to risk going back to an open one they may have left unattended. “want one? they help you relax. the perfect thing to go with a little… fun in the bone zone.”

Snorting, you spit water on the bar. “Shit.” Wiping it up as you laugh, you can’t quite bring yourself to look at him without laughing again. “Has that line ever worked for you?”

He shrugs, slouching back to take up a second bar stall as he rests mud-caked boots on the corner of the bar. “usually i don’t have to try this hard.”

“You call this trying hard?” You laugh again. “Damn, I’d hate to see what your casual looks like.” He leans forward, eyeing you with unbridled curiosity. 

“[y/n!]” Coco calls. “Bosslady is here; you can head home for the night.” She eyes Mutt warily, looking as though she wants to put herself between the two of you.

“Thanks Coco. See you on Friday?” You reach out to pet her arm as you slip around the bar, taking note of the way Mutt’s eyes narrow at your touch. She nods. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Mutt. If you ever drop in on a weekend, you’ll have to let me make you another michelada.” You wink, as you grab your books and head for the break room.

“sure thing, hot stuff. i’ll be seein’ you.” 


	2. Chapter Two: Temptation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s notes: I forgot how bloody awful the upload system on ff.net is; it just isn’t worth the time it takes to upload on there. Where else do you guys read Undertale fics still? Not sure if I should just stick with AO3, or share anywhere else~
> 
> Anyway, the earworm is strong with this one, so...here’s chapter two. I hope you enjoy!

“Don’t even think about it.” Groaning, you let your head fall back against the wall with a thump. “You’ve got things to do. Tonight is a study night, not a play night.” You try to remind yourself.

 _But he’s kinda cute, in a gruff, badboy way._ You shake your head, trying to dispell the thoughts of just what it would feel like to have Mutt’s impressive height looming over you whilst you were tied down… _or bent over, or on my knees, or…_

“Damnit, me. This is the sort of shit that makes people have to re-take a semester.” Running a hand through your hair, you eye your bag reluctantly. _See. This is why I don’t usually do weeknights. I’m so weak._ Stuffing your books into your bag, you make quick work of the last remaining granola bar. _If he’s half as good as his attitude and that smirk suggests, I’m gonna need to keep my energy up._

You sling your bag over one shoulder, taking a moment to run your hands through your hair in the small mirror beside the bank of lockers. _Eh. Not like I can do anything more without wasting time._ Making sure to grab a hairband from your bag, you quickly pull it around your wrist. You take a moment to lament your lack of boots; you’d usually wear something a little more… leather and platform-y at least, along with bringing at least one pair of fuck-me heels in your bag just in case. Somehow, between your last one-night stand and making it to your car the next morning, you had managed to lose one of your back-up heels. _Those were my favourites, too…_

Slipping through the side door, you make your way along one of the staff corridors towards the entrance. Built to help security make their way around quickly in cases of emergency, you are far from the first member of staff to use it to get around while trying to avoid certain patrons.

“Hey [y/n]. I didn’t know you were on today.” You smile as the newest member of the ground of house staff - _Abi? Ami? -_ greets you with a smile.

“Just covering for someone. D’you mind if I get one of the yellow bands? I thought I might stick around for a bit.” She smiles at you knowingly.

“Got your eye on someone cute, eh? No probs.” She passes across one of the glowing yellow bands. Since introducing them, things had been running a lot more smoothly in Sweet Release. The basics more or less followed the same principles as the house traffic light safeword system: green (open and looking); yellow (negotiating or open for discussions); red (taken, not interested in new approaches, or already in a scene).

They had introduced a couple of extra colours to help smooth out the edges, with purple (in an existing dynamic that is open for additional players) proving one of the most popular, along with blue (just visiting, unlimited bar access but not allowed to book or enter private play spaces). For the less open-minded, black (humans only, not interested in monsters) or grey (monsters only, not interested in humans) stickers could be added to the bands.

The only ones who aren’t required to wear a glow band are House staff, who each instead have a soft gold fabric band displayed somewhere prominently on their outfits, or the occasional regular whose dynamic and ownership claim by themselves are clear enough (though with the number of vanity collars, they were beginning to let fewer and fewer patrons in with just a leash or brand to set them apart).

“Wish me luck.” You smile, waving at her over your shoulder as you head into the club through the main doors this time. As you clip your glow band into place, you pull the simple gold plated bands from your wrist. You had completely forgotten you had worn them to class today. _Shit. So much for the ‘no jewellery at work’ rule._ Slipping them into your bag, you make your way through the bar first. Scanning the room, you smile at your replacement, noting the presence of a couple in the corner - a bird monster in a rather lovely PCV dress, and her human partner in an equally stunning rubber number. No sign of Mutt.

 _Fuck. Did I miss him already?_ Biting at your lip, you make your way through to the main public playspace. A second bar, this one smaller, is nestled into one corner, allowing patrons a clear view of the various pieces of equipment and raised daises scattered throughout the space. Barely a dozen humans and monsters are in the space this early, making your search for your still missing prey all the more frustrating. _Where is he? How do you misplace a freaking seven-foot-tall guy._

You slip past one of the human bouncers _I really need to learn the day staff’s names_ through to one of the four smaller public spaces. _Which one could he be in? All that leather and chains, he could be in dungeon one. Maybe the medical room? Eh. I don’t think he’d be in the rubber paradise, that only leaves the private rooms, or…_

You pause outside the last of the four smaller public spaces. You usually try avoiding the room with the House Staff. A friendly bunch (for the most part), it isn’t that you are prejudice against those that like to mix business and pleasure; far from it. You just don’t want to risk someone thinking what you had to offer could turn out to be something more than it is. _Never date co-workers, friends, or friends of family._ Your one big rule had done well by you these past three years; you really can’t see why you should risk breaking it.

 _What if he’s already picked someone? Just my luck._ You hover by the curtained entrance, the familiar claws of anxiety and anticipation clawing at the pit of your stomach. _Stop being such a fucking pussy and get in there. So what if he’s already found someone else to play with?_ _Give it another hour, maybe one beer, and there’ll be plenty of other people looking for a good time. What’s the big deal? He’s not the only attractive being around._

Letting out a ragged sigh, you force your shoulders back. Holding your head high, you push through the curtains into the room. One of the more brightly lit open spaces, your eyes flick between the men, women and monsters scattered throughout the room. Flashes of gold bands catch your attention, reminding you to slip off the last of your bangles. Glancing down, you quickly return to searching for Mutt.

 _Gotcha._ Lounging on one of the booths to one side is Mutt, his dirty boots propped on the surface of the table. A rather eager looking House Slave - _Aaron? Old enough to fuck, not old enough to drink -_ is eyeing those same boots eagerly. You can see him practically salivating over them. It makes you pause. _Shit._ You had assumed he would be open to a scene with you, but what if he isn’t into women? Or humans? You can’t remember seeing a tell-tale glowstick on his wrists. _Did I miss it? Or did A let him in with just the collar?_

You hover, unsure of what to do next. The thought of rejection doesn’t usually phase you; it’s all part of the game. You can’t expect to be everyone’s idea of a good time, no more than everyone fits into your idea of a good fuck (or an even better dominant). _Why do I care what one skeleton monster thinks about me? I’m being stupid._ Watching as he pulls out another echo flower cigarette, your mind is made up as Aaron jumps to light it for him. You grab an ashtray, making your way over to the pair.

“Hey hot stuff.” You have to bite back a snicker at your own awful pun. You still can’t quite believe he had drunk half that bottle earlier. You arch an eyebrow, pointedly looking at where his ashes are lazily drifting to scatter across the table. You make a point of sliding the small glass bowl beneath. “See, that’s not so hard!” You say cheerfully. It’s a struggle to stop yourself from reacting as Mutt turns his burnt orange eyelights on you. His smirk turns positively predatory as he takes you in once more, eyes lingering on your bag.

“Oh! I didn’t realise - sorry about that, [y/n].” Aaron is quick to apologise. You catch the disappointment in his tone. Not too many monsters go for the jailbait look Aaron’s got going for him; you wouldn’t blame him for being upset with you.

“No worries Aaron. Mutt and I haven’t agreed on anything yet.” You can see Mutt’s browbone rising, the tip of an orange-glowing tongue swiping at one of his pointed gold teeth. “I just thought I’d come over and see if you wanted that drink, or…” You trail off, giving Mutt an easy out to turn you down gently and pick back up with Aaron.

“i thought you’d finished workin’ for the night, darlin’.” You shiver as his deep timbre washes over you. His low, raspy voice was one of the first things you had truly noticed about him beyond his impressive height. _I do love a guy whose bark is as good as his bite._

You shrug, eyes darting between him and the opposite side of the booth. He tips his head slowly, answering your silent question. You send Aaron a commiserating smile as you sling your bag onto the seat, sliding in after it. You don’t feel too bad; the bird monster from earlier and her partner seem to be eyeing him already with a frankly scary gleam in their eyes. _He’ll be fine._

You find your eyes lingering on his collar once more. _Is there a Master or Mistress out there wondering where their pet has gone for the night? Maybe he’s just a switch with permission to play._ You drag your eyes - and thoughts - away, pushing down the uneasy feeling in your stomach. You hate the thought of being the other woman. _Assume good intentions. Not every guy you meet is a cheating asshole. Don’t push your shit onto other people’s choices and dynamics like that._

You take a steadying breath. Without thinking, you make a grab for his glass, downing half of it for courage. His smirk takes on an amused edge as he turns back to face you, one arm bent behind his head, the other dangling over the side of the booth. Ashes now drop onto the black tiled floor. _Well, at least it’s not the table._

“I’m going to take a leap here and assume you’re interested.” You pause for him to deny it. He doesn’t move, save for taking a long, low drag of his cigarette. “I don’t do permanent marks, needles, or serious bloodletting. A little mark here and there is fine, but anything with knives needs further negotiation. No bareback - I don’t care what your dick is made of, if it’s in me, it’s covered.” You plough on as he lets out a choked laugh, puffs of purple smoke wheezing out through his jawbones and teeth as he tries to compose himself. “No photos, no live streaming, no rose-budding. In fact, let’s put a pin in the whole medical kink side of things; I’m really not in the mood for it tonight.”

“that everythin’?” He asks incredulously. _I can’t tell if that’s a good or a bad sign._ You shrug. “For the most part. I prefer the traffic light system for safewords; I can’t promise I won’t let out a ‘no’ when I mean yes, but if you prefer to do things the old fashioned or have limits around consensual non-con, I can do my best to remember that. Oh; and this?” You point between the two of you. “Is a one-time deal. I just need a yes or a no, big guy, not a white picket fence and roses.” 

Silence falls between you. You try to hold his gaze, unable to read the intention behind those glowing orange orbs. 

He stands without a word. You can feel your heart sinking. _Did I blow it?_ You lower your eyes, hands falling to the strap of your bag. No matter how much you tried to prepare yourself for rejection, it still hurt.  _It’s fine. I don’t really have the time tonight anyway._

A leather glove-clad, skeletal hand appears in your line of vision. “last chance to change your mind. i don’t like to be kept waitin’.” You can feel the nerves at the pit of your stomach begin to settle. The low, slow burn of anticipation takes over. Sliding your hand into his, you let him pull you up.

“Quite the grip you’ve got there.” You already sound a little breathless. _Play it cool. Do not blow it at the last hurdle._

“make no bones about it, darlin’, you haven’t seen the half of it yet.” Mutt’s tongue flicks out again, curling around the base of his cigarette. Two bony fingers reach up to pinch the glowing tip, extinguishing it without a second thought.      

_Was that a… skeleton pun?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors notes: This… was meant to be the first sex scene. It took longer to get through the negotiations than I thought. I’ll try to have another chapter up within the next few days~ I really hope things are ok so far! Any feedback or constructive criticism is, as always, welcomed. Also, any Mutt! fic recs would be met with free cookies and eternal gratitude.


	3. Chapter Three: The Bone Zone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s notes: …. *is still giggling like a little bitch at her own awful chapter title*... I… haven’t written porn before. Here’s to hoping it doesn’t show xD 
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who has commented and left kudos~! I really appreciate it. Each time I see a comment pop up it pushes me to get the next chapter done that little bit sooner ^_^; 
> 
> So, ah... hope you enjoy the next chapter~

“Any preferences?” You ask, as you hasten your pace to keep up with Mutt’s long-legged stride. _Don’t mind the poor, short human here; I’ll just jog to keep up._

A sigh escapes you before you can stop it, as he shrugs, his gait unchanged. “Any soft limits? Any hard limits? Any general preferences here?” Still nothing. “Give me something to work with, big guy, or the next couple of hours are going to be the wrong kind of painful for both of us.”

Reaching the back check-in desk, you wave him off to one side. “I’ve got it.” You hand him your bag without thinking, as you bend over the desk to see which rooms are still available to hire. Leaning over to see if you can see anyone slacking behind the desk, you ding the small service bell to draw someone’s attention.

“You’re a monster of few words; anyone ever tell you that, Mutt?” You ask cheekily. While a big part of you is near Aaron levels of drooling in anticipation, that small, nagging, logical part that is usually responsible for paying electric bills _before_ replacing your dwindling supplies of amaretto and coke is starting to pipe up.

That lazy grin remains unchanged as he leans against the wall, as though the effort of standing has become too much for him. Without a trail of smoke and a cigarette dangling from his mouth or hands, you’re reminded once more of just how cliche his outfit should seem - gold teeth and all. Yet he’s got that air around him of someone with much more experience than first appearances would suggest.

“m’lord prefers brevity.” His sensual drawl pulls you up cold.

“You are...here with permission, aren’t you, Mutt?” You ignore the sound of the staffroom door opening and closing, the tell-tale whump of boots audible above the low thrum of the base. “I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a thief, or a homewrecker. So just tell me now if some burly dude all wrapped up in pleather is going to storm his way in, demanding to know who’s petting his puppy.”

You feel a spark of annoyance at the shit-eating grin spreading across his face. _He’s really starting to piss me off._ You tell yourself, denying the curl of pleasure growing within.

“no need to worry, darlin’. m’lord always knows where his loyal attack dog is.” He leans in; for a breath-stopping moment, you think he’s about to kiss you. Bypassing your open lips, he growls in your ear. “no need to worry about any big, burly interruptions. m’lords... stature... would hardly allow for that.”

 _Did I miss the joke? Why’s he grinning like that?_ You force your gaze back to the desk, feeling equal parts dazed and confused from Mutt’s proximity and words.

“[y/n]?” You turn your attention to the monster standing behind the desk. “Everything ok?”

Lips curling into a genuine grin, you beam up at the new face. “Teddy! My second favourite pupper!” You coo at the towering Shiba Inu monster. You can see Mutt preening out of the corner of your eye. _We can’t have that._ “You know my heart will always, first and foremost, belong to Coco.” You stage-whisper to him, having to hold back a smirk of your own at Mutt’s disgruntled look.

Teddy nods good-naturedly. Everyone loves Coco; she’s the fierce mama monster to all of the staff, human and monster. “Did you need help with something?” He asks, pointedly not looking at Mutt. You grin.

“No, no. I was just hoping to catch someone to book one of the rooms. I didn’t know you were working security back here today. Any chance you can book me in?” You ask hopefully. “I’d really like room three if it’s not taken or pre-booked.”

You ignore Teddy’s raised brow. He doesn’t try to mince his words. “That’s a bit... tame for you, isn’t it?”

Shrugging, you lean over to sign the proffered ledger. “Eh; My friend here isn’t too sure what he likes. I thought it would be best not to give him too many options.”

Teddy let out a snort. “Best not to overwhelm your new puppy before he’s house-broken.”

As you finish the paperwork with a flourish, you miss the frankly savage look Mutt is sending Teddy, gold teeth bared and eyesockets burning. By the time you look up, Teddy’s hackles are raised, his teeth bared in a snarl at your lounging Mutt.

 _Not mine. Don’t go getting any ideas._ “You know me; I’m not really one for training ‘em. I’m more of a play and release kinda gal.” You aren’t quite sure which of the three of you you’re trying to reassure. “You go on in ahead, Mutt. I need to grab a couple of things.”

Mutt straightens, unfurling from his previous slouch against the wall to try and tower over you both. Much to his dissatisfaction, Teddy’s still got a good three inches on him (even if it is most likely fur).

“don’t be long.” He drawls, his long legs eating up the distance between the foyer and the corridor to room three in no time.

_Three...two...one…_

“I don’t like him.” Teddy growls. _Oh Teds. This again?_

“You never like any of them, Teddy.” You lay a consoling hand on his paw, unable to meet his persistent gaze. “We’ve been over this. I’m not ready for anything serious right now, T. If - not when, if - I am, you’ll be one of the first to know. I promise.”

A puff of hot, moist air hits your face. You wrinkle your nose at the faint smell of gravy and liver. “I still don’t like him.”

You smile as Teddy passes you your usual order; four mini bottles of water _free from the staffroom and great for safe, no chances of being drugged refreshments mid and post-session;_ an array of multi-coloured condoms _ribbed, flavoured, extra safe, and mint tingle for her pleasure and safety_ ; along with a couple of fruit granola bars _the allergy-free fuel of champions._

 _Oh! On second thought..._ ducking behind the counter once more, you grab one of the spare ashtrays from the back-up supply. Bosslady always insists each smoking room has a new ashtray between visitors. _Just because a monster likes smelling like a certain type of cigarette, doesn’t mean they’ll tolerate just any old smell in their rooms_ she’d insisted when asked.

As you slide back across the desk, you wink at Teddy, making a shushing motion. Room three is on the no smoking side of the list. _As long as I air it out afterwards, nobody will even know the difference._

“You don’t have to like him, Teds. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to even like him.” You hold a hand up to stop him from interrupting. “I think he’s just here to dip his toe outside of the vanilla waters. I bet you five bucks I’m back out here again within an hour, with mister tall, dark and lazy blushing like a school girl after we use the fluffy cuffs.” You wrinkle your nose at the mere thought. _Why am I doing this again? Ah, that’s it: low standards and a high libido. Why did nobody tell me my twenties would suck this much? Heh. Suck._

“I’ll be keeping an ear out. I’ll come if you shout.” Teddy says seriously.

You shake your head. “You’ll come if you hear red. Not shouting or screaming. Red or not at all, ok big guy?” You tap the ledger once more; your name, Mutts, and your safeword are clearly written beside the three-hour time slot you’ve reserved the room for. You usually preferred all-nighters when you could swing them, but really… your hopes for Mutt we’re starting to wane.

 _Who doesn't have a pre-set list of limits ready to go?_ _Let’s get to it. Who knows? Maybe he’ll prove to be a good boy after all._

 

* * *

 

“Everything ok in there?” You knock before opening the door. _Please don’t be already naked with your dick out._ For all of your evangelising of the joys of no-strings, one-night-only kinky sex, you’d had your string of duds to go along with the studs.

 _The worst was that poor guy who shot his load before I’d even taken my boots off_ . You wince at the memory. He’d been so apologetic, yet unable to get another erection for the entire five hours you had spent together. In the end, you had just ordered room service, re-watching old episodes of Supernatural while letting him paint your toenails.  _At least he did a good job on the topcoat._

Peeking in before you enter, you can see your bag laying open on a bench against the wall. _Huh. I could have sworn that was closed._ While you haven’t been in room three for quite some time - _it’s just as vanilla as I remembered -_ it doesn’t look like anything has changed.

A large, four-poster bed sits front and centre, it’s mahogany beams dotted with thick metal d-rings. A simple red-leather padded bench sits off to one side at an angle. A leather, seatless throne sits just beside the door, giving the perfect view of the rest of the room, while the far wall holds a little bit of everything; soft black ropes, cold metal spreader bars, entry-level crops, paddles, canes and floggers. Chains with delicate nipple clamps barely stronger than a clothes peg dangle alongside house collars, cuffs, and blindfolds.

There’s even the dreaded line-up of fluffy handcuffs in a whole spectrum of valentines day colours. _It’s like a freaking 50 Shades catalogue exploded in here._ You snort to yourself. _It’s not too late to call it a night and get some studying done, right?_

Mutt stays where he is, leaning against the fake stone-panelled wall as you close the door quietly behind you. He eyes your haul, searching your hands as though something is missing. Placing your stash beside your open bag, you quickly zip it closed.

“not much to use in here, darlin’.”

You turn back to him with a frown. “As you didn’t seem to have anything in mind, I assumed-shit!” _How the fuck did he get that close without making a noise?_ Your knees feel weak as you lean back, trying to keep an inch of space between your body and Mutt’s.

“you know what they say about assumin’” He drawls. You watch as slim fingerbones begin unbuckling his gloves, revealing the long, pale bones beneath. Even with the dim bedroom lighting, you can see what looks like discolouration, along with countless nicks and chips scattered across his metacarpal and phalanx.

“I just thought-” Clearing your throat, you busy your hands with one of the bottles of water. He takes it from you, putting it back down.

“i must be doin’ somethin’ wrong if you’re this coherent.” You can feel the electric-tingle of his magic brushing against your skin. Eyes slipping closed, you lean towards that addictive buzz. You stumble, hands reaching out only to grasp thin air.

“jeans and trainers off. leave the corset for now.” _How the heck did he get over there?_ Your mind feels hazy. Surely you would have heard him move that fast to get to where he now lay, lounging in the bed?

“No boots on the bedding.” The words are out there before you even register the command behind them. Mutt’s orange eyelights narrow to pinpricks. You swallow heavily. You catch him this time; between one blink and the next, he’s off of the bed and pinning you to the wall by your neck. You can feel each individual bone in his hand flexing around the delicate column, his steely grip steadily pressing against your windpipe. You instinctively press your thighs together, going limp beneath his grasp like a good girl - or good prey.

“i think you’ve misunderstood just who’s in charge here, darlin. i don’t think you want to go tryin’ to give orders.” You stay perfectly still. As he loosens his grip, his eyelights remain focused on you, watching expectantly.

“No Sir.” You bite your lip in concern as a look of distaste flashes across his face. You flounder for a moment, hands shooting up to grasp at his wrist. “I don’t use Master on a first session.” You blurt out before he can knock your hands away. The annoyance seems to drop from his face, the same cocky, sharp smirk replacing it.

“i thought you only did one-night stands.” You return his grin with one of your own.

“Yup.” You roll your p, making it pop loudly in the unsettlingly quiet room. Slowly, you lower your hands, making no move to step towards or away from Mutt. “What would you prefer…” You trail off uncertainly.

“mutt is fine for now.” He looks pointedly down at your still clothed body. You blush, biting back the keening that threatens to erupt from your throat as he withdraws his hand, returning to the bed with a flicker once more.

 _Maybe he’s not so inexperienced after all._ Slowly, you unbutton your jeans, sliding them down your legs. You can feel a blush burning your cheeks. _Of course today had to be the day I was wearing_ [ _period panties_ ](https://www.sourpussclothing.com/period-panties-its-flow-time.html) _._ You’d grabbed the first pair of comfortable panties you could find that morning. You could hear his low, rumbling laugh as your ‘It’s Flow Time’ purple-striped, Beetle Juice underwear comes into full view. You go to pull them off, embarrassment causing your stomach to twist uncomfortably. Humiliation play has never been your thing.

“come here. leave ‘em on.” Mutt’s deep drawl commands. You find yourself padding across the cool floor, standing beside the bed uncertainly. Eyeing the still fully clothed skeleton with a mixture of curiosity and excitement, you can feel anticipation warring with your embarrassment. Mutt isn’t the first monster to dominate you; not by a long shot. He will be the first skeleton though.

“well aren’t these just adorable.” He smirks, reaching out to pull you forward by the elasticated waistband. Falling on your hands, you half lean, half crouch awkwardly on the side of the bed, one of Mutt’s ridiculously long legs between your own. You feel his femur pressing against your thighs, encouraging them to part. Balancing on the balls of your feet, you spread your legs as wide as you can without falling on him.

A single, long finger traces down the centre of your mound, following the neon arrow down. You whimper, as he presses lower. _Why did I have to wear these panties today?_ He chuckles as he reads the text covering your already damp lips. You can feel your breath catching as he skims over you, barely touching the hot, damp surface. Forgetting yourself, you press forward, eager to feel his cloth-clad bones against your own skin.

From one breath to the next he’s gone again. This time, you feel an uncomfortable tugging at your navel. You flail, trying to find purchase on something, anything, as the sensation of falling overtakes you. You cling on to his coat-clad torso with both arms, praying for the room to stop spinning.

“easy, princess. just breathe.” As you begin regaining your balance, the soothing circles between your bare shoulderblades stop. His fingers dip lower, brushing the edge of your corset. You crack open an eye cautiously; you’re both stood beside the thick, red leather padded bench now. “colour?” His tone doesn’t sound any different, but you can see the serious look in his eyes. “if this is gonna be too much for you, i’d rather know before we get too far in.”

You shiver as his rough phalanges trace patterns on your back. _He’s not even done anything yet. Why am I reacting like this?_ “Give me your best shot.” You try to put every ounce of bravado into your voice. He frowns, drawing back. 

A whimper escapes you. “Wait!” You grasp his wrist, forcing your eyes down. “I-I can be good. Green. 100% green. I don’t know what’s come over me, I-” You drop his wrist as though it has burnt you, realising your faux pas moments too late. “I really don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight.” You repeat quietly. If only your past Master could see you now; he would be so ashamed.

You feel a finger tilting your chin up, forcing your eyes to meet his. “no need for any of that. just remember: i ask you somethin’, i expect an answer or you to do what i say immediately. no backchat, not avoidin’. am i clear?” You nod, ignoring the way his finger digs into the underside of your chin. “Yes s-Mutt.” You correct yourself before you can finish.

“good girl.” He motions for you to turn around. You do so without pause. The tell-tale sound of a zipper comes from behind you, the rustling of fabric being removed making you want to turn around and sate your curiosity. _I hope he’s not just going straight for taking his pants off._ You bite your lip. _Though I’d love to see what he’s got under there…_

You had been with several monsters who has more… unconventional methods of having sex. Not all of them would manifest a magical phallus or opening for you to enjoy, but each had a unique way that they preferred to be pleased. The thought of rubbing against Mutt’s fabric-encased femur has you squirming pleasantly. _Down girl. Get your head in the game._

You feel his hands return to your back once more, this time lazily stroking across the lacing on your corset. “bend over. hands on the bench.” He nudges your legs apart again as you move to get into position. You feel bones pressing against the middle of your back - a knee, perhaps? - as his hands return to the knot keeping your corset cord in place. “i want you to tap the bench once for green, twice for yellow, three times for red. got that?” You murmur your consent once more, eager for the real fun to begin.

Settling your weight evenly between the balls of your feet and your forearms, you can’t help the breathy gasp that escapes at his first pull. You had thought Coco had laced you into your corset as tightly as she could; apparently, Mutt has a much firmer touch. You can feel the metal boning pressing against your ribs, an unforgiving presence constricting your breathing.

Biting back a low moan, you shift more of your weight forward, acting as a counter-balance as Mutt pulls at the laces quickly and efficiently. _He’s done this before_ you think, as his fingers tighten the fabric effortlessly. Losing yourself in the sensation, you let out a questioning whimper as the pressure lifts from your back, hands tying off the knot deftly. You force yourself to remain still. _Don’t think. Don’t move. Just obey._ You repeat your mantra, forcing yourself to slip deeper into the right headspace.

“good girl.” A shark smack lands on your behind, echoing in the quiet room. You let out a quiet moan. A deep, rasping chuckle sounds behind you. “like that, hm? i think we’ve got ourselves a bone-ified slut.” You can hear the grin in his voice. Tentatively, you wiggle your butt, pressing it back against his hand. “as you didn’t brin’ any goodies with you, we’ll just have to make do.”

 _What did he expect? A bag full of dildos and chains?_ You can feel yourself slipping out of the right mindset as you mull over his words. A dull thud to your other cheek brings your attention firmly back to the present. A second hit lands on the opposite cheek, then a third and fourth.

 _Too soft._ You want to wiggle away from the light hits of what must be a leather paddle and place something much more fun in his hands. _The one with metal studs if he insists on a paddle, or maybe I can work him up to using a crop at least._

Thud. Thud. Thud.

_Does this room even have any canes?_

Thud. Thud. Thud.

You can feel warmth beginning to blossom on your panty-covered cheeks. You readjust your position, spreading your weight more evenly to relieve some of the pressure on your hands.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The heat continues to build. Still not enough to truly excite you, but enough to tease.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

You rest your forehead on the cool leather of the bench, losing yourself in the rhythm. The warm glow feels pleasant but distant - far from the all-consuming inferno you had been hoping for when you had given in to that wicket smirk and bad-boy exterior. _Just another poser in a cute outfit._ You sign in disappointment.      

Thud. Thud. Thud.

_Should I pretend to cum? Maybe he’ll move on to something more interesting if he thinks he’s getting somewhere. Ick, what if he just decides to jump straight to fucking?_

Thud. Thud. Thud.

_Does this count as vanilla, or have I just forgotten how simple bdsm play can feel?_

Thud. Thud. Thwack!

You gasp, pushing yourself up and away from the bench before the sharp pain across the back of your upper thigh begins to throb. An unrelenting hand presses you back down.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

You can’t help yourself; you let out a low groan of pleasure as the short, sharp bursts of pleasure-pain hit their mark. _That’s more like it. Someone found the crops._

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

You feel yourself beginning to sink into the rhythm again, the hot flesh around your ass pulsing from each impact. You can feel the fabric of your panties growing damper and damper, your sticky juices collecting on the thick black fabric. _It wouldn’t take much - just a touch…_ As though sensing your thoughts, a warm, rusted orange glow surrounds your wrists, keeping them pinned in place.

You feel Mutt tugging at your panties, ripping the fabric from your skin with two short, sharp tears. You struggle against the orange glow without a thought, trying your best to stand, to turn around, to make Mutt do - something, anything. A band of orange flares around your neck, forcing your head down beside your wrists.

“i don’t remember tellin’ you to move.” You freeze, your breath coming in ragged pants. You can feel the press of Mutt - still fully clothed, but without the telltale soft fluff of his hood - against the curve of your back. “unless that was you tappin out…” he pauses; you slowly, deliberatly tap once for green. “it seems like someone’s being a bad girl.” You feel the sharp nip of his teeth grazing the back of your neck; you can’t help yourself.

“Please.” You whimper, shame long forgotten. His gravely chuckle has you shivering all over again.

“begging for mercy already?” He taunts, keeping the pressure of his bones against You consisted and unfulfilling. You shake your head in denial.

“No, no, no. More. Please. More.” You can feel his pelvis pulling back, all pressure leaving your bare ass and dripping lips. In your lust-driven haze, you can’t sense his disappointment. As he shakes his head, ready to pull away, you push back once again- not your hands or ass, but this time, baring your neck to him. “Please, Mutt. Please. Please.”

The moment stretches on for an eternity, neither of you moving. Holding yourself still, you force yourself not to ask again. As you feel the brush of his razor-sharp, gold incisors against the delicate column of your neck, you feel yourself relax into your bonds once more. You keen desperately, a chant of more and please falling from your lips.

“oh aren’t you just precious.” His teeth press more firmly against your neck, nipping, licking with teasing strokes of his glowing tongue, before finally setting at the juncture between your neck and collarbone. He bites down slow, steady, relentlessly. You can feel your skin drawing taut. The sharp pull splits, his teeth breaking the skin in one delicious, pleasure-pain burst.

A single ringer traces down your mound. Your lips tremble as he feels the clear, sticky substance dribbling from your core. Losing yourself to the sensation of his touches - his teeth in your flesh, his tongue lapping at the sluggish trickle of blood, a single finger at your entrance, you can feel your legs trembling as that finger glides in deep, deeper, deeper with ease.

“someone’s excited.” You feel the finger curling within you, rubbing against that soft, spongy spot deep within. Warmth builds from the base of your stomach; you can feel the pressure building.

“N-no, stop!” You whimper, squeezing down. Your palm slaps twice against the smooth, red fabric. “Yellow.” Mutt freezes; you clench your walls around him. “I-I” You stammer, trying to find your words. “I can’t hold it. I’m sorry.” You can feel tears of frustration prickling at your eyes. “I’m sorry. I-“

His breath puffs against your neck, making you shudder and whimper. “oh someone is trained after all.” He licks at the wound at your throat once more. “are you goin’ ta beg for it, darlin? do you want to come?” He nips at your earlobe, tongue snaking out to lick at your cheek.

You shake your head, forcing the words down. “no? you don’t want to come?” He sounds confused, his voice losing some of its gravely edge. You shake your head again.

“Want doesn’t matter.” You try to explain. “Can’t-good girls wait for permission. Not…” You gulp, your throat feeling unbearably dry. “Being selfish and-and bad and greedy and-“ strong hands flip you over, the orange-red glow around your wrists and neck gone in an instant. The familiar, dizzying pull of Mutt’s teleporting overcoming you. Sharp teeth cut you off mid-sentence. The soft brush of satin sheets feels cool against your still burning thighs and buttocks. You gasp, giving Mutt access to push his tongue in deeper, coaxing yours into submission.

“i like your control, but not that train of thought darlin’.” You feel the squirming fear of failure overtaking the burn of excitement. “i want to see - hear - taste you. when you feel close, I want to hear those pretty lips beggin for it. can you do that for me?” He forces your chin up, orange eyelights meeting your lowered gaze.

“Yessi-Mutt” you correct yourself with a wince, biting your own lip in punishment.

“none of that now.” He pinches at your cheek, forcing you to release your own lip. “can you be a good girl for me?” You nod, desperate to please.

You can feel his finger - just one - return to your mound. Unsure of what to do with your hands now they are free, they flutter uncertainty. You have the overwhelming urge to pull at the leash dangling from his collar, to force his head down, to feel just what that tongue can do. Arching your hips, you force your hands behind you, resting them at the small of your back. _Not yours to touch. Be good._

Mutt lets out a pleased growl. You watch as he crawls down your body, his gaze still locked on yours. You want to break it, to look away. You can’t. You can feel each ridge as he pushes in unbelievably slow. You let out a long, high-pitched keen as a rough tip massages your g-spot from within, his second hand raising to press against your mound. You groan loudly; it takes every ounce of your willpower not to move, to beg, to twitch just so and cover his hand with your essence.

You can’t bare it any longer. “P-please. So close. Please, Mutt.” You plead. His lazy smile takes on a sharp, pleased edge. “oh darlin; only had to ask.”

Your breath leaves you in a single woosh as his finger withdraws, three slamming in hard and fast and deep. The rough touch of his knuckles pounds against your sensitive outer lips as he drives in again and again. Your mouth drops open in a wordless scream; you can feel the overwhelming pleasure mounting. You thrash, trying your best to stay still, to remain in place, to be a good girl for him.

“Too good, too good, too good.” It doesn’t even register as you chant your pleasure. Mutt takes your words to heart. You feel the sharp nip of his golden fangs on your quivering clit, his pounding never slowing or faltering. Everything feels too good; it’s missing that edge that you need, that touch of pain to make the pleasure that much sweeter.

You feel his other hand forcing its way beneath you; you moan loudly as Mutt scrapes roughly at the marks littering your ass and thighs. You can feel yourself teetering on the edge.

“So close. Please, please can I-“ you beg, tears pooling. You realise your eyes are clenched tightly shut; you force them open, refusing to dishonour Mutt by missing a second of his masterful, worshipping tough.

He lifts his head, hands still stroking you inside and out. You can feel the damp, hot brush of his breath playing over your nub. His hands drift lower, leaving behind the red hot flesh to dip between your spread cheeks. His finger teases at the dry rim of your hole. You clench; _not there_ you want to beg. Mutt curled his fingers within your cunt; you see stars. Closer and closer, you can feel it building.

“Please. PLEASE. I can’t hold it. Please, can I. Please please Mutt. Need your permission. Can’t come without permission. Please.” You’re near incoherent as you beg, your desire to come warring with the deeply ingrained need to please.

You feel the hard, relentless push of a skeletal finger breaching your tight sphincter, forcing its way relentlessly within. Your mouth falls open in a wordless scream; his fingers massage your g-spot from within, wringing every inch of pleasure from your greedy pussy.

“come.” The command has barely left his tongue when you feel yourself plummeting over the edge; too much, too deep, too pleasurable - the perfect balance of pain and discomfort, the burning stretch of your tight little ass, the sloppy gape of your fluttering cunt, still so eager to draw him in, to take as much as he will give you and more.

“that’s it. that’s a good toy.” He croons, raising his creamy fingers to press against your lips. Wordlessly, you draw them in, licking each digit clean. You can feel the steady, rhythmic touch as he pets your hair; you’re too lost to your blissful haze to notice when he stops, beyond letting out a confused whimper.

You allow yourself to bask in the warm, floating glow. _Just another moment, and I’ll take care of him._ You promise yourself, fighting the fuzzy darkness that tries to lull you to sleep. _Feels so good. Haven’t felt this good in so long._ You manage to pull your arms out from behind you, the effort taking more from you than it should have. Wordlessly, you search for Mutt with your newly freed hands. _Just a few minutes of snuggling, then I’ll take care of him._

“YOU’VE DONE WELL, MUTT.”

“thank you, m’lord.”

 _M-what?_ You fight against the warm haze as you come down from your happy bubble of subspace, trying to comprehend what you are hearing.

“THIS TOY SEEMS LESS WORTHLESS THAN THE LAST.

“that it does, m’lord.”

“Mutt?” You murmur, confused. _Why isn’t he in bed? What… what’s with the shouting?_

Reluctantly, you force yourself to sit up. Your eyes are drawn immediately to the throne opposite. _What’s Mutt doing over there?_ It takes a moment for the sight to really register what you are seeing; Mutt, kneeling on the floor, leash ptaut taunt, head lowered. His burnt orange eyelights fix on you, taking every movement of yours in. Beside him sits a smaller, thicker skeleton encased in bulky black and red trimmed leather armour, thigh-high boots shining in the dim light. A crop rests on his leather, short-clad femurs. A smirk - _nothing like Mutts -_ adorns his smug, malicious little face, as he looks at you with an odd mixture of disdain and interest.

Grabbing at the sheets, you throw them across your lap, your cheeks burning once more.

“Who the fuck are you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors notes: Long chapters are long. 
> 
> I… somehow Reader ended up thinking she was gonna be all domme at first, despite her clearly being labelled as a sub/slave (not even a hit of switch-ness) in my notes. What the heck reader? Why can’t you just follow the dang script like a good girl? *grumbles* gonna have to get Mutt to see to this…
> 
> I think I kinda went a bit overboard on Mutt asking for consent, but I can totally imagine with his and Blackberry's shared history, that learning the rules and permissions to do these kinds of things would be an important part of letting humans near either of them sexually (though clearly, they still have some faux pas's to make).
> 
> So, er... let me know what you think?


	4. Chapter Four: The Tiny Tirant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s notes: Updates may be a little slower over the next couple of weeks, as I’ve got a few paid freelancing gigs I need to get in~ (not fanfiction-related). I’ll be trying to update at least weekly if not more, but the daily updates are probably going to come to an end until I’ve got all of my side-gigs and day job writing done. 
> 
> As it doesn’t seem like too many people are reading, I’ll probably be slowing down on the updates and re-prioritising things. Still planning to finish this, I just might try a few more ships at the same time~

_ This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. Tell me this isn’t happening.  _ You can’t take your eyes off of Mutt or the tiny intruder.  _ Is this some kind of joke? Please tell me it’s a bad dream.  _

Humiliation, anger and fear wage war in the pit of your stomach.  _ How long has he been there? How much did he see?  _ You eye the distance between the bed, bag, and your discarded jeans. Clutching the sheets tighter over your bare nether region, you keep your attention focused firmly on the intruder.

You can feel a twinge of hurt and disappointment, seeing Mutt kneeling loyally at his side. Despite his bowed head, Mutt’s cold gaze hasn’t left you. You can feel him watching your every twitch.  _ So much for accidentally picking up a vanilla guy; just my luck, I managed to find half of a pair of noncon players… or kidnappers. I’m not sure which would be worse at this point. _

“HOW DARE YOU ADDRESS THE MALEVOLENT SANS IN SUCH A DISRESPECTFUL MANNER, SLAVE!” Blue glowing eyelights glare at you, his mouth drawn into a savage grin. 

_ He kind of looks like an irate chibi from an anime, or a pompous blackberry crossed with a yappy Pomeranian.  _ You bite back a giggle before it can escape, concerned that if you begin, hysteria may take over.  _ Wait a minute, what did he just say? _

“Excuse you.” Your tone comes out as sharp as intended, cutting the tiny tyrant short in his tracks. __ You can see every bone in Mutt’s body tightening from his previously languid position as you stand, feet slapping loudly against the bare floor. You force down the uneasy feeling in your stomach.  _ You knew he wasn’t yours to begin with. You don’t even want to be his - you don’t want to be anyone’s. You have no reason to feel this - betrayed? Disappointed? Deceived sure, but not… everything else. _

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are-” dragging the sheets along with you as a makeshift toga, you storm towards your abandoned clothes.  _ Get changed. Get out. Warn Teddy we’ve got some unsafe players. Go home. Do not make this personal.  _

_ “ _ DISOBEDIENT AND STUPID? HOW DO YOU FIND SUCH WORTHLESS TOYS, YOU MANGEY MUTT!” The intruder -  _ Sans? -  _ interrupts. “I SEE I WILL HAVE TO GIVE YOUR WORTHLESS HIDE ANOTHER LESSON.” 

Mutt’s posture remains unchanged as his partner yanks on the chain attached to his collar. “apologies, m’lord.” 

_ Do skeleton monsters need to breathe?  _ You find yourself wondering, your own memories of being yanked around by a collar and leash rising to the forefront of your mind. While you loved the safety and security that came with being collared - not just for play, properly owned and collared - and you couldn’t get enough of that delicious sense of powerlessness that comes with breath play done just right, you loathe the combination; how a careless tug or missed step could bring everything crashing down and ruin even the most well-thought-out scene. 

You watch as the smaller of the two -  _ I’m pretty sure it was Sans - _ raises the crop from his lap, aiming to -  _ holy shit is he aiming that at Mutt’s face? _

“Hey!” You cut them off, your voice cold. You can barely contain your fury. “What is wrong with you? You could take his fucking eye out!"  _Can monster eyelights even be damaged like regular eyes?_  "And you!” You turn your glare on Mutt. “You told me you had permission to come out and play! You said I didn’t have to expect any interruptions! You never said any-fucking-thing about your, what, owner? Dom? Coming out to play.” You shake your head in disbelief. 

Pulling your jeans in with jerky, awkward motions, you feel unwilling to turn your back in either of them. Turning to one side, you awkwardly tug off the tattered remains of your ruined panties.

“actually-” Mutt tries to butt in.  _ Is he sweating?  _ You glance at his irate owner.  _ I’d be pretty worried too if I was caught out lying in front of my partner.  _ “i said m’lord knew.”

You wait for the rest of his excuse. When none seems forthcoming, you shake your head angrily, shoving the remainder of your possessions into your bag. You leave the water and granola bars behind, no longer trusting them not to have been tampered with. “You said not to expect any interruptions from big, burly Dom’s wrapped up in pleather.” You pause for a beat “Oh my fucking god you were making a short joke earlier weren’t you?”

If looks could kill, both you and Mutt would be dead by now; Mutt, from the frankly terrifying look he was being sent by Sans, you from the cold look Mutt had aimed your way.  “...m’lord only wears real leather.” Sans looks about as impressed with Mutt’s excuse as you do. 

“That still doesn’t explain why the hell you thought it would be not only appropriate, but ok to bring someone else into a negotiated scene without  _ mentioning him up during negotiations!”  _ You are pretty sure your shouting can be heard from the corridors at this point. You spare a moment to hope Teddy isn’t patrolling too nearby; you have an awful feeling he may rip Mutt to shreds before you have the chance to eviscerate him. 

Sans waves a hand dismissively, flexing the crop between his glove-encased fists. Having seen how close he was to striking Mutt in the face, you feel uncomfortable venturing any closer to him - or the door that lays just past them both. 

“didn’t realise it would cost more, darlin’” Mutt’s lazy drawl, a complete contrast to how he now holds himself, pulls you up short. 

“Cost more?” You ask slowly, your mind whirling. “The rooms are a set fee; they’re charged by the hour, not occupancy.” You aren’t certain yet, but you have an uneasy feeling about how this may go.

“PSST. IT IS A QUESTION OF COST? ARE YOU CALLING ME A WELCHER? THE NERVE! THE MALEVOLENT SANS WILL DOUBLE YOUR FEE. RETURN TO THE BED AND REMOVE YOUR GARMENTS; NOW THAT YOU ARE WARMED YOU UP, I WISH TO REPLACE THE MUTT’S SLOPPY HANDIWORK WITH MY GENIUS.” 

Your jaw drops. Lost for words, you let an uncomfortable silence fall between you. 

“WELL?” He taps his foot, browbone drawing in displeasure. Your eyes move between Sans and Mutt in disbelief.  

You shake your head, moving towards the door. In a blink, Mutt is between you and Sans, his hand curled once more around your throat. It doesn’t feel sensual this time; each fingerbone feels sharp and uncomfortably cold against the trembling flesh of your neck. You can practically taste the panic building in your chest.

Mutt’s unblinking stare makes you want to flinch, to cower away. “m’lord doesn’t like to repeat himself. or be kept waiting.” How did you think his voice was sensual such a short while ago, when now, it has you trembling where you stand? 

You raise your terrified eyes to unsteadily meet his; are you imagining it, or does a flicker of confusion pass his russet eyelights? You draw a slow, deep, steadying breath.

“RED!” You scream at the top of your lungs. “TEDDY! RED RED RED RED!” 

“WHERE?” You feel Mutt’s grip on your neck falter momentarily, as he and Sans appear to be searching for someone. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, your breath catching, as you draw in another ragged lungful to scream again.

“NO! RED! I DO NOT CONSENT! RED!” Mut seems frozen, the power behind his grip faltering. 

“WHAT ON EARTH IS SHE SCREAMING ABOUT? WHERE’S RED?” Sans demands, looking at Mutt expectantly. He takes a stomping step forward, then another, and another. With each click of his boots growing closer, you can your breaths shortening, coming in sharper, more panicked gasps. “WHY-”

THUMP!

The door crashes open with a bang, revealing a furious dog monster. Teddy is in the room like a flash, two human members of the security team giving their much larger colleague a wide berth. Lips pulled back and teeth bared in a snarl, Teddy is barely holding himself back. One of the security guards  _ Dan _ your mind supplies, tries taking charge. “You heard the lady. Let go of her. Now.” 

The other guard, a young woman you aren’t familiar with, hasn’t taken her eyes off of you. She takes a slow step closer, clearly preparing to grab you if things turn sour. “No” you mouth to her, not trusting security’s strength to win out against Mutt’s if it came down to it. 

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?” You can’t tell - is that genuine confusion beneath his indignation and anger? As Teddy’s growling grows louder, you gulp thickly. You can feel tears beginning to well.  _ This isn’t going to end well for me, is it?  _

You feel Mutt’s fingers to slack; holding both hands up, he remains still, his eyes never leaving yours. “i think there’s been a misunderstanding, m’lord.” He says steadily. Despite the ever-present smirk, you can hear an undertone of something in his voice; regret? Confusion? In your panicked state, it’s hard to tell.

“WHAT IS THERE TO BE CONFUSED ABOUT?” Sans stomps his foot once more, snarling at the intruders. If it were any other situation, you could imagine the smaller monster would be amusing if nothing else. In your current state, crop in hand and matching gold incisors gleaming as he snarls, Sans seems terrifying. “THE HOUSE SLAVE IS THROWING A TANTRUM FOR NO REASON. SHE MUST BE PUNISHED.”

Teddy is clearly at the edge of his patience. Before Sans can take another step towards you, Teddy throws himself forward. Mutt blinks away again, slamming Teddy to the floor in an instant. “no-one. touches. him.” He snarls. Before you can intervene, Sans is on the move; wrapping a hand around the end of Mutt’s leash, he yanks harshly. 

“HEEL! NO ONE TOLD YOU TO INTERVENE.” He commands, forcing Mutt down by his neck. You watch what seems to be a genuine struggle as Mutt snarls and claws at the floor, trying to make his way back to Teddy without dislodging the shorter skeleton. Sans’s booted heel finally presses to the nape of Mutt’s spine, causing the thrashing monster to fall still.

As Teddy goes to lunge again, you shout. “Teddy! Bad boy.” You feel bad the instant it leaves your mouth. You refuse to take it back. You would rather have Teddy feeling disappointed in you than hurt -  _ or worse. _

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding here. If everyone can just stay calm, we can get this sorted.” The female security guard’s soothing voice breaks the silence. “What’s this about a House Slave?” 

Whipping his crop around, Sans points it directly at you. “ARE YOU STUPID? THAT, OF COURSE!”

The security guards look between you in confusion. “[y/n] isn’t…”

“Fuck you. I’m a bartender. Not a House Slave.” You can feel all of the energy seeping out of you.  _ I just don’t have the time or patience for this. Maybe this is just one big, ugly misunderstanding.  _ “No harm, no foul guys. I’m sorry for worrying you three.” Throwing security a weak smile, you run a hand through your hair.  _ Fuck, how am I going to show my face back here on Friday?    _

“Let’s just call this one big misunderstanding. Mutt? Next time you try to pick up anyone - I don’t care if they’re human, monster, in this club or not - you  _ disclose this shit before inviting someone else to join in. _ Sans, was it? You don’t just jump in and force your dynamics on bystanders.” Pulling your bag further up your shoulder, you turn towards the door.

“you’re not a house slave?” Mutt’s low, smoky voice stops you before you get any further. You shake your head, holding up your wrist. The yellow glow band is still clearly in place. He frowns, shaking his head, insistent. “you were wearing gold earlier.” 

You shake your head slowly. “No, I wasn’t. I don’t even own a gold pin or band. I’ve never been on the House staff like that.” You feel so disappointed.  _ Was that why he was interested? Did he think it would be easier, or I would have fewer limits if I were on staff?  _ “Even if I were a House Sub or Slave, that wouldn’t excuse this kind of behaviour.”

You rest a calming hand on Teddy’s arm, gently petting his fur. You can feel him calming beneath your touch. You don’t notice the loaded look Mutt sends you - nor the knowing narrowing of San’s eyes as he watches his pet. 

“IS IT A QUESTION OF PAYMENT? ARE NON-HOUSE SLAVES MORE?” He asks. “OR DOES IT ALREADY HAVE AN OWNER I MUST NEGOTIATE WITH?”

_ What… what is he not getting about this?  _ You snap your fingers. “SHE” you slowly annunciate “is not for sale. I just work in the bar, tidge; what I do in my free time is up to me. It’s got nothing to do with renting from the House. Sorry, everyone, for whatever this… cluster fuck is. I’m gonna call this a night. I’d say it’s been nice, but… yeah.” 

As you head towards the door, the two human security guards keep pace with you, ready to step in if any of the monsters take a step towards you.    
_ That… could have gone worse? Not by much, but… oh who am I kidding?  _ You clutch your bag trap to your chest tightly, barely holding the floodgates closed.  _ This is fine. Everything will be fine. I just need to get home, get some rest, and… forget this ever happened. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s notes: This... developed a goddamned plot. What the fuck it was meant to just be PWP. C’mon brain, stay on one shiny idea at a time. I have like a nice 50 chapter Sans/Reader/Grillby fic all plotted out and ready to go, but no, I keep coming back to this. *Grumbles* stupid brain.
> 
> Should Blackberry Sans be so shouty? I’ve only read a little with him, I’m not 100% sure I’m getting him yet. I’m kinda picturing Edge crossed with Blueberry… I’m also kinda torn whether he should be referred to as Sans or Blackberry… any preferences?


	5. Chapter Five: Getting back on the horse (er...monster)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors notes: how would one go about finding a beta reader? I’m, er, asking for a friend, I swear…
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has left encouraging words and comments - I really appreciate it, guys! I also really appreciate your patience as I’ve dropped from daily updates to a couple of times a week. I also severely overestimated my resilience to negative feedback and criticism; apparently reading comments is not a good idea when I’m already feeling low. The entire series outline along with this chapter almost ended up in my trash .___. I… am going to try not to read these when I’m not feeling so great from now on.

_ Stop thinking about them. _

It’s Friday night, and you still can’t get the Mutt or his owner out of your mind. You should be getting ready for your shift in the bar; instead, you find yourself contemplating something you haven’t done in all of your years of working there: you’re thinking of calling in sick. 

_ How can I face Teddy and Coco and everyone after that? I panicked like a freaking newb. What must they be thinking? What’ll they say? _

It had taken you twice as long to drive home that night, your nerves absolutely shot to pieces. If it had happened on one of your regular weekend shifts, you would have asked one of the guys to carpool home with you, or at least have asked to split an Uber. As it was, you hardly knew anyone who had been on shift that night. As for the few people you had recognised... you were too embarrassed to admit what had happened. 

The following morning, you had awoken before the first rays of morning light could illuminate your cramped room through the thin curtains the previous tenants had left behind. Despite the layers of blankets, you felt cold to the bone, your skin unpleasantly clammy. Your stomach churned with a mixture of restlessness and anxiety. You could feel that familiar itch firmly beneath your skin;  you knew you would be unable to scratch it. The hot ache of your thighs and buttocks did little to quell the heavy, stuffy feeling in your head and stomach.  _ Not good enough. Failed again. Not good enough to keep. Not good enough to make him happy. Not good enough to use. Discarded all over again. _

“Great. Subdrop. That’s just what I need.” Just because you could recognise the traitorous thoughts circling around and around in your head, didn’t make them any less painful to deal with. “Just keep your shit together. It’ll pass soon enough.” 

It doesn’t help that even now, three days later, you can still feel a faint, deep ache deep within from where Mutt had mercilessly pounded into you, stretching you wide three sure, hard fingers. Your entrance still feels bruised from where his knuckles had hammered against you, not to mention your neck…

You catch yourself petting the raised bite marks on the back of your neck. Luckily, your hair can cover them as long as you leave it loose. During several particularly tough lectures, you find yourself pressing against those marks, using the flash of pain to centre yourself despite the stress and obligations coming at you from every angle. 

_ He basically called you a hooker, while his partner called you a thing. Why are you giving either of them the time or space in your mind right now?  _ You berate yourself.  _ Not that there’s anything wrong with prostitution or paid BDSM work, it’s just… that’s not me. _

You try to ignore the niggling voice in the back of your head that questions why, then, are you getting so upset about a one-night stand not knowing ‘the real you’?

_ Enough is enough. No more pity party.  _ “The only way to get over everything is to get back on the horse or… er, monster.” One quick call to your boss later, and you have three blissful evenings off to look forward to. You feel a pang of lingering guilt when you think of letting your team down for not just one shift, but three. 

_ I hope Teddy isn’t too worried. Poor guy; for all of his bark, he doesn’t usually have to deal with too many situations like that.  _ With most of the patrons behaving themselves, security rarely needs to be called for anything more serious than underage teens trying to sneak in, or the occasional drunk not understanding that playing and drinking are considered almost exclusively separate activities at Sweet Temptation. 

Now that your default choice for finding a safe, sane, consensual kinky hook-up is off the table for the next few days at least (if not longer), you find yourself reluctant to explore your other options.

_ Fetlife has always been pretty good to me. Sure, it’s not the easiest site to find people in the local area, but the community’s pretty safe and outspoken on the whole.  _ Clicking into your account, you start looking through your backlog of messages, comments and friend requests. _ I suppose there’s always Whiplr too, but isn’t that meant to be like Tinder for kinky people? _

The thought of the horror stories from Tinder alone has always made you feel a little wary about using the app. Taking into account your recent experience at the club? You can’t escape from the uncertain, clawing feeling at the pit of your stomach. 

_ It’s only going to feel worse if I don’t get this over with. What’s the worst that could happen? I find someone, we have coffee, discuss limits. If anything seems even a little bit off, I can just bail.  _

You start flicking through your options, pointedly ignoring the faint tremor in your hands. Dismissing the human side of Fetlife, you begin working your way through the monsters who have recently liked your photos or dropped you a message. 

_ Do I try and find someone who’s into impact play and orgasm control to get everything out of the way at once? Or should I try and ease back into things a little more slowly… _ Flicking through, you debate your options.  _ Nope… no…  yeesh, definitely not. Hmm… maybe?  _ You pause on the profile of a giant goat monster. Your eyes are particularly drawn to his horns and surprisingly kind face.  _ He looks nice. Kind of like a big, horny plushie. Heh. Fluffybuns? What kind of username is that? Oh wow. That is one hella impressive- _

Ping!

Switching tabs, you click to check your inbox.  _ Oh, hello there handsome.  _ You never thought you would find a spider monster particularly attractive considering your fear of actual spiders. The more you read through Spout’s profile, the more he seems like the ideal candidate to get back in the game. Refusing to admit your nerves are still getting the best of you, you take a closer look at his photos and preferences. 

You can feel your breath catch in your throat.  _ His shibari work really is stunning.  _ You click through from one picture to the next, to the next.  _ Such attention to detail - and such unusual rope!  _ You eye the glittering silver-grey cord used throughout his images.  _ I wonder if that really is rope…  _

“OK Spout, let’s see what your deal is. Hm… shibari, bondage, rope play; no shit. Sensory deprivation, blindfolds. So far so good…” You pause. “Ah.” The word biting sticks in your mind. Flashes of his teeth pressed against the back of your neck come to mind; you shiver, trying to banish the memories. “Fuckit. Let’s hope this is the start of a beautiful afternoon of sweaty, jiggly fun times.”

* * *

The sun is shining, the birds and singing, and things are… going surprisingly shitty. Having woken up with a raging headache and feeling more exhausted than when you had gone to sleep in the first place, you haven’t got high hopes for your Saturday coffee date.  _ Does it really count as a date when you’re only there to discuss the terms of potentially fucking?  _

Truth be told, your morning doesn’t get any better as it progresses. Between discovering your hot water heater is broken (again) only after stepping into the frigid water, and realising you have somehow fallen so behind enough on your laundry that your options are down to a low cut (bordering on indecent) blouse you usually save for relaxing in the club after hours, or an oversized cowl neck jumper that is more of a studying from home option. _ Choices, choices… fuck it, who am I kidding? Comfort over potential embarrassment any day _ . 

Deciding not to set off too early lest you seem too keen, you leave with just thirty minutes to spare. 

_ I regret everything. _ Huffing and puffing, you sprint the last half a block, rushing to make it to the bus stop before your ride pulls away.  _ Of course, today would be the day of all days that ol’ rusty gave up the ghost too.  _ You have already done the calculations: your chances of fixing your car whilst still affording luxuries like rent and food aren’t looking so good.  _ This is fiiiiine. Walking can be a good replacement for that gym membership I’ve been debating about getting.  _

As you plop yourself down into a free seat, you pull up your messages once again to make sure you haven’t missed anything.  _ At this rate, walking will have to replace more than just rusty.  _ While missing a couple of shifts as the club should hopefully help you regain your confidence and put the little… mishap with Mutt and Sans behind you, you hadn’t quite taken into account how it would affect your bank balance. 

_ If I can pick up just a couple of extra shifts at the store and maybe extend my hours next weekend, as long as there are a few good tippers, I should be able to make it this month. Maybe. Hopefully.  _ You pull up the university job board again. While there are plenty of options, there’s nothing that quite fits around your existing schedule (and nothing worth giving up two steady, stable paychecks for).

_ As long as I’m careful, everything should be fine.  _

* * *

_ Why didn’t I just pick a freaking Starbucks? How the heck can than charge so much just for a coffee?  _ You arrive nearly fifteen minutes late, relieved to see Spout already sitting at a table with a coffee at hand.

“I am so sorry I’m late! Just give me two minutes to order, and I’ll be right back.” You apologise in a whirlwind, rushing back to the line. 

Within a few minutes, you are back with Spout. Hands curled around your coffee - plain Americano, the cheapest they had - you begin fumbling your way through the awkward small talk that always comes with these kinds of hook-ups.

_ No, I’m not really an escort here to trick you out of your life savings. You’re not really a serial killer, are you? Good, good. _

_ Why no, I don’t think Ann Summers and fluffy handcuffs are hardcore. Do you know how safewords work? Awesome! _

_ Neither of us is expecting anything more than a one time kinda deal, right? Jackpot. You, good sir, have ticked enough boxes to get yourself to the next round! _

“So, ah… have you ever, I mean, have you been with a…” Spout trails off, waving four of his arms his general direction. You can feel a small, genuine smile curling on your lips.

“Have I ever had a random s and m hookup before?” You try to get around his obvious worry. “Or have I ever been with a spider monster before?”

He nods, looking down into his cup. All eight of his eyes look nervous. Reaching out, you lay a hand on top of one of his. “I’ve done this plenty of times before; it’s about the link connection and the mutual fun for me, not specific parts or trying to find my soulmate. Have you ever…?” You trail off, leaving him room to interpret your question however he prefers.

_ Considering how fucking terrifying spiders are, spider monsters actually look kind of cute. His hair looks so soft. Would it be rude to pet him without asking?  _ You eye his arm hair speculatively. Wearing just a simple pair of slacks and white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, you can’t help but admire the shape of his arms.  _ He looks pretty strong. I wonder how dexterous he is. I bet he could pin me down by my wrists and ankles, and still have the flexibility to open me up with those strong hands of his. _

He nods, his nervous smile taking on a more confident edge. “Yes. Mainly monsters, but it’s a bit harder to find more casual opportunities to explore and try new things out. Since getting out of a relationship a couple of months back, I just want to get out and have some fun.”

You can feel the last dregs of tension leaving your shoulders.  _ He seems nice. Trustworthy. Kind of cute - not in a smouldering sexy way, but… safe.  _ “I know exactly what you mean. When you get out of a longer or more serious relationship, sometimes you just need that time to rediscover what you enjoy all over again.” 

“Yes, exactly!”

_ Oh yes. He does look good when he relaxes.  _ Smiling, you pull your hand back. Taking another long sip of your coffee, you try not to wince at the bitter taste. “Let’s talk limits.”

Despite his attempts at a smile, Spout is back to looking nervous again. “Sure. Sure. I think I listed all of the major ones on my profile; I’m happy switching, but I would prefer to remain in charge. I strictly avoid soul play; nothing that could get anyone dusted of course, no impact play.” 

_ A little tame, but I can still work with this.  _ You nod along, mind already racing through the possibilities. “What would you say to grabbing a hotel room together, later today? Or tomorrow If that doesn’t work for you?” You suggest. “Strictly bondage. Blindfolds yes, no hoods.”

“Earplugs?” He interrupts, leaning forward in his seat. 

_ Ah yes, he’s into full sensory play. Someone’s eager  _ “As long as they aren’t combined with both gags and blindfolds at the same time. Full or partial sexual intercourse is fine, but no permanent marks, anything that goes in me is wrapped, and no surprises. I mean it - no photos, no live-streaming, no introducing player three while I’m tied up or in no position to consent.” His vague look of horror does a lot to calm you. “I’m not saying it to offend you, it’s-“

He sends you a wry grin. “No harm, no foul. Bad experiences are harder to shake than the good ones.”  _ Spoken like a man with first-hand experience.  _

You send him back a tentative smile of your own. “You’ve got that right. Shall we?”

“It would be my pleasure. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors notes: I'm just gonna go ahead and split this into two, as I’m a little worried it’ll feel too long (like the previous chapter did). Weekly to twice a week updates are still expected :) I’m getting ahead of my freelance backlog again (about ⅓ of the way through and still trudging through) so hoping I can get back to focusing on this sooner rather than later.


	6. Chapter Six: The Incy Wincy Spider

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s notes: this chapter kinda of stumped me. It was definitely one of the hardest to write (I’m not a huge shibari fan, nor do I like spiders, so… who the heck knows why this became a thing rather than just going with some Asgore fluff~) Anyway, I hope you enjoy :3 Sidenote: if you are actually interested in learning more about shibari, AutoStraddle have some great basic intro posts that seem really easy to follow (are free to access)~ and are all gif based, so no need to keep stopping pausing and rewinding any videos while you get the basics down.
> 
> I’ve also been meaning to ask people’s grammar preferences: I’ve read a mix of Sans/Mutt in lower font no caps (so talking like this. see?), and papyrus/blackberry in all caps (LIKE THIS WHICH CAN SEEM A BIT SHOUTY! YES!) I’m guessing to tie in with the game? I’ve been trying to use this as well for Mutt and Black, but I’m not 100% sure if it actually adds anything or just looks like I forgot to turn Grammarly on before uploading… does this work, or does it just read like it’s been poorly edited?

By early evening, you find yourself making the awkward ride up to meet Spout in his hotel room. You feel a twinge of guilt; despite having picked somewhere cheap and relatively nearby, you still don’t feel comfortable about the gentle-mannered spider monster footing the bill.

_ I can always slip him half when he’s in the bathroom later or something.  _ You reassure yourself, as you adjust the strap on your bag. It had been worth the almost two-hour detour to make it back to your apartment from the coffee shop, throw everything you might possibly need into your bag, before rushing back to meet him.  _ A girl’s gotta have her favourite toys.  _

An array of lubricants, condoms, dildos, and miscellaneous items from your favourite blindfold to a tiny bottle of spearmint and bubblegum mouthwash fill your messenger bag.  _ Gotta be prepared and all that jazz.  _ You had deliberately left behind your preferred gag and anal beads.  _ Baby steps. Just go for something simple to get back in the swing of things.  _ You remind yourself, making your way towards room 309. 

Knocking gently, you smile as Spout opens the door to let you in. Without his overcoat and shoes, you find yourself admiring his arms once more.  _ That is some nice, consistent definition. Dude must work out.  _ Brushing past him, you glance around the room, taking stock before you set your own bag down. A warm twinge of appreciation bubbles up, as you notice the clear path Spout is careful to leave between you and the door. 

The room is small. Spartan, but clean. The latest MTT special is playing on a tiny wall mounted flat screen, the volume turned low. The bedding has been stripped back to just an under sheet and two carefully positioned pillows. You can see an array of silver-grey, delicate looking rope resting on the low desk beneath the window.  _ So pretty!  _ You hold back, hand hovering, as you reach out to touch it. Spout nods in approval.

“You like it? I made it myself.” He looks pleased at your appreciative murmurs. It’s much softer than you were expecting, almost like pure silk to the touch. “No need to worry about breaking it. That stuff can hold back a 600lb monster without straining.” 

Your eyes scan the table, looking for -  _ ah. Good.  _ You spot two pairs of safety shears off to one side. You make small talk as you unpack, laying your toys alongside his. You leave your own safely sealed bottle of water in your bag.  _ You never can be too careful.  _ Making a point of laying the condoms front and centre, you add a couple of bottles of lube - water based and silicone, along with your favourite brand that promises to ‘tingle for her pleasure’. 

You leave the dildos closer to your bag, as well as your favourite bullet vibrator. While some of your past partners - humans and monsters - had been happy using them, others seemed almost personally offended at the idea that you would prefer a piece of plastic over their own fingers, cock, or in a few cases, magical phalluses.  _ I really don’t care what they use, as long as we both get our fair share of pleasure from things.  _

“How would you like me?” You send Spout a teasing smile as you try to quell the butterflies in your own stomach. He gestures towards the bed with two of his left arms.  _ Are they four arms and four legs, or six arms and two legs?  _

“If you wouldn’t mind, ah, undressing but leaving your underthings on?” You are almost certain Spout is blushing under all of that soft, downy hair. Nodding, you slip your clothes out without any fanfare.  _ I think he would combust if I tried a striptease for him.  _

This time you have come prepared. As you pull your comfortable jumper up and over your head, a simple, black lacy bra comes into view. Pushing your breasts in and up in all the right places, it’s one of the few that you own that is both comfortable and sexy. Wiggling out of your jeans, a matching pair of black lace boyshorts are revealed, the delicate fabric clinging to your cheeks like a second skin. You hear an appreciative intake of break from the other side of the room.  _ I wonder if he’s appreciating the view, or the lace?  _

You lower yourself onto the edge of the bed, scooting back into the centre at Spout’s wordless request. Making no move of his own to remove his clothing, you can’t help but draw comparisons once more between this softly-spoken monster and another.  _ They’re nothing alike. Stop thinking about him.  _

You feel a shiver of anticipation as Spout unspools the long, silver-grey rope. Turning pliant under his hands, you can feel a growing curl of desire in the pit of your stomach. His hands are much more sure and steady than his words have been. 

Under his careful guidance, you bend your knees. Pressing your angles against your buttocks, you lay back, your legs bent, exposing you in a way that thrills you. You feel the soft press of silken rope being tied first around your right ankle, then you left. He loops the rope steadily, binding your lower leg to your upper thigh. Looping once, twice, three times, dexterous fingers tie the steely fabric in place by your knee before looking back down. Passing the rope between each rung of silken fabric, you can’t help but admire the matching patterns that soon adorn your outer and inner thighs.  _ It almost looks like the start of a spiders web. _

Four hands each pull at the rope here and there; checking that he can slip a finger between your skin and the rope without any discomfort, tightening knots, rubbing at your exposed skin with practised ease. You shake your head as he asks if you feel any coldness, numb spots or unpleasant tingling.  _ Something is definitely tingling, but I wouldn’t call it unpleasant.   _

You can feel yourself sinking as he runs his hands across the ropework.  _ Oh wow ok. I need this more than I thought if I’m going down this easily. _

“Colour?” 

Blinking at him slowly, it takes a moment for his question to really sink in. His look of concern melts into one of amusement as you dreamily respond. “Green. So, so green.” You drag your eyes up from the ropes binding your legs open, a light blush dusting your cheeks at just how deliciously exposed he has you feeling. “More. Please?” You bite your lip in excitement as he smiles at you, holding up another length of rope.

“As you asked so nicely. Let’s get you turned over.” You can feel two - no, three - sets of hands lifting and turning you as though you weigh nothing.  _ Fuck he’s strong.  _ You let out a low groan as he settles you on your front, turning your face so your cheek will rest on one of the scratchy hotel pillows. The fabric feels both soft and irritating beneath your skin. A low-pitched whine escapes as he removes his hands from you; you move to follow, wiggling ineffectively in your bindings. “Hush now. So needy.”

His words act like a bucket of ice cold water. You can feel your burning need for his touch waning, as those familiar words cut through, pulling you out of the floaty comfort of subspace.  _ Always so needy. Too selfish, too much. Why do I always…  _ Before you can become lost in your thoughts, you feel the comforting coolness of a new length of rope at the base of your spine.

You arch your hips to try and give him more room to work, but with the immobility of your legs, it does little more than to flex your excited, wet lace panties in Spout’s direction. Strong hands press around you as he loops the length of rope from the bottom centre of your back, around your ribs then back again once, twice. Tying it in place, he secures it beneath your breasts before re-centering the remaining rope behind you. Moving up, this time above your breasts, he repeats the process. 

Tugging the rope firmly in place, he tugs it up and across your right shoulder, looping it beneath the rope already on your front then up across the opposite shoulder to create a snug V between your breasts. You can feel the rope securely holding your breasts apart, the silken pressing nicely through the lacy barrier of your bra. Twisting your neck, you try to get a proper look at his handy work. A firm hand presses between your shoulder blades, restricting your movements as he holds your wrists in one hand at the small of your back. You bite your lip, trying to hold back your groan of pleasure.  _ This is what I need.  _

Deft fingers press between the cool flesh of your chest and the ropes, checking to make sure there are no pinch or pressure points that may be causing undue discomfort. “Green green green.” You murmur before he can ask. You lean into his touch as he pets your hair, making you sigh happily.

“If you feel any numbness or need me to pause, just say the word.” Spout’s hand trails down the length of your body slowly. His gently touch leaves a trail of fire in its wake, ending on the uncomfortably tickly arch of your foot. You can feel him loop the rope around each of your tied ankles, leaving your legs still spread, your panty-clad pussy further exposed. Running the length of rope up, he bypasses your bound wrists to loop it beneath the bottom of your chest harness. He keeps a steadying hand on your thigh as he pulls the rope taut, hogtying you in place. 

As you give an experimental wriggle, you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of subspace once more. Unable to move towards or away from his teasing, soft touches, you feel utterly helpless and exposed.  _ So close.  _ His teasing touches, rather than remaining soothing, keep you teetering on that edge, unable to fall deeper into the bliss you know awaits you. 

_ Too soft. Too gentle.  _ The soft touch of a silk blindfold brushes against your face. You raise your head just enough for him to loop it around, blocking off your sight. The lack of visual input makes every touch seem that much more sensitive, that bit more heightened than before. “Perfection.” His words make you shudder. You wish you could press back and into his touch; you wish you could remain like this, helpless and free from the crushing weight of day-to-day responsibilities.

Hands brush against the curve of your ears, causing you to jerk in surprise. “Amber.” The word escapes you before have time to register the small plugs pushing into then quickly pulled back out of your ears. You can feel the disappointment in his touch as he pets your side, retreating to put the earplugs away. You want to call him back, to tell him you are sorry, that you can take it. You can’t bring yourself to be that clueless to what is going on around you.  _ Not yet. Not so soon after… _

You try to force your mind away from where it has drifted once more.  _ He isn’t even that hot. Ok that’s a lie, Mutt is hot like burning. There’s something about the confidence of a man on a leash who can still seem like he could bring the entire room to its knees.  _ It has been a while since someone has managed to surprise you quite as much as Mutt had.  _ Why did he have to do everything so well up until the end? Are my standards really that low that the first tall, dark and mysterious kinky person who shows even a hint of interest in me suddenly seems like the freaking fetish messiah?  _

You find yourself so preoccupied with thoughts of Mutt, it takes several long minutes for Spout’s actions to fully register with you. Sharp teeth graze the back of your neck; a low moan reverberates from your neck as they press softly against your skin. Softly, then firmer, firmer. 

“Ah!” You cry out; you can feel a steady trickle of blood now flowing from the junction between your neck and collar.  _ That is much harder and deeper than we agreed.  _ “A-amber.” You force the words past your lips. However good it may feel, you had both agreed to no long-lasting marks and no serious bloodplay. You can already feel thick, red droplets staining the sheets beneath you.  _ Yeah, that’s gonna end up costing us extra.  _

“Sorry, sorry.” Strong hands swivel you around to face the edge of the bed. You blink, dazed, as the blindfold is removed quickly. Struggling to adjust to the sudden brightness, you squint up at Spout, confused. He looks apologetic, blood faintly staining his mouth.  _ Oh.  _ You can feel your pulse steadying once more as he gently pets your hair, soothing away your irritation at being yanked from that happy, floaty precipice. His hands flutter near your neck once more, lightly brushing over the bite mark. “May I?” 

You glance between his face and his other set of hands; two rest on your head and neck, two gently stroking you, whilst the final pair hover over the zipper of his slacks. Licking your lips, you hum your agreement. He’s… smaller than expected.  _ Maybe he’s a grower, not a show-er?  _ You soon lose yourself to the familiar rhythm, six hands tightly grasping the back of your head as you bob back and forth.  _ So sensitive.  _ He gasps, hips stuttering as you lick along the underside, tongue flicking back to lap at his slit. His fingers trace along the bitemark once more, pressing against the sluggishly bleeding wound. A sharp tendrel of desire shoots through you. You let your teeth graze against the tip of his member, a warning not to press too tight. 

“Oh!” He pulls back with a jerk, thick, sticky strands of silver-grey shooting across your cheeks and lips.  _ Is that…  just like the rope he used?  _ You watch, transfixed, as he seems to keep coming… and coming… and coming.  _ I would say that was anticlimactic, but… dude looks like he’s having a good time.  _ You press your cheek against his hands as he gently pets you.

_ Well darn. That was short.  _ You sigh, disappointed. You watch at Spout slowly seems to come back to himself. 

“That was… wow.” He smiles as you goofily. You don’t have the heart to let him know just how quickly he blew his load. “Let me return the favour.” 

That makes you perk up. You track him as he disappears just out of sight, making his way back to the waiting table of toys. You flex against the ropes, sighing in pleasure as you manage little more than a wiggle. A cold, smooth pressure pushes against the hot, damp outside of your panties. You jerk, biting your lip as fingers push aside the wet fabric to the flesh reach below. 

The blunt head of one of your favourite toys pushes against your slick entrance. The thick, curved length teases against your lips as Spout spreads the awaiting stickiness. “You look wonderful like this. So helpless…” You whimper, straining against the ropes once again. 

“Please?” Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as you feel the thickness pressing relentlessly against your lips. Spout pushes the toy in steadily, paying no mind to your eager whimpers and gasps as he pushes deeper and deeper. He draws it out at the same maddeningly slow, steady pace. “Oh god more, please. Faster.” You beg. Spout pets your bound thigh absentmindedly, another hand pressing the small of your back down onto the bed, thoroughly trapping you in place.

“Hush now. None of that.” He pushes again, watching as inch by maddening inch sinks inside. You can feel tears of frustration building.  _ More more more please more.  _ It’s been so long since someone took things this slowly; you had forgotten just how deliciously frustrating it can be. “So sticky and messy. Humans are quite fascinating.”

Panting, you let your head flop forward onto the bed, surrendering yourself to the sensations. “Good girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” On his next inward thrust, you feel his thumb brush against the hard, dripping nub of your clit. 

“Gah!” The sensation feels overwhelming. He gently circles his thumb against your slick flesh, matching the unrelenting, slow speed of the dildo.  _ Holy fucking shit I need to see more multi-armed monsters in the future.  _ You can feel another set of his fingers probing at your entrance, testing the opening where the dildo disappears into your greedy, fluttering hole. 

“Can you take more?” He asks. You nod eagerly, words failing you. He pulls the toy out steadily; this time, as he slowly eases it forward, a long, slender finger pushes in alongside it, stretching your pussy as it eases its way in. “So slick. You don’t even need any of the lubricant, do you?” All too soon, both his finger and the toy are out once more. “I think you can take another.” Two long, slender fingers bracket the toy. You can feel the slight burn as they push, heedless of the resistance your hypersensitive pussy tries giving. 

Your whole focus hones in on where his fingers rest inside of you. Silently, you plead for him to curl his fingers, to push just a little deeper, to flick your clit just a little harder - anything to make you come. 

In. Out. In. Out.

“And another.” You bite your lip as a third finger probes your stretched lips. Even with the slickness dripping from you, it’s an uncomfortable, bordering on painful fit. Your breath comes in harsh pants now as Spout pushes and pulls, stretching you wider than you have been stretched in some time. “Another.” You cry out. He’s four fingers deep, a thick dildo already protruding from your swollen cunt. “So wet.” 

As he pulls out this time, you hear the faint pop of the dildo being pulled completely free. You whimper loudly at the loss. “Hush. I’ll look after you.” He pets your leg with one hand, a second still on your lower back, third still teasing the rim of your pussy. You feel a fourth and fifth set of hands pushing at your mound, stretching the skin around your pussy taunt so he can see every inch of you. His sixth hand rests alongside your open hole, tugging gently on the rim. “You’ve been so good for me.” Your legs tremble from the strain of being restrained, of being helpless for so long.

You feel him shifting his hand, pulling his thumb and pinky together as he angles his hand. He pushes. “Oh fuck.” You cry.  _ He can’t be…  _ You can feel the widest part of his hand pressing against you.  _ It’s too much. It will never fit.  _ He keeps pushing. The pressure is relentless. His other hand lifts, flicking at your nub again. You can feel your entrance fluttering, clenching and unclenching at the spike of pleasure washes over you.  _ Fuck.  _ It burns so, so good as he forced his way inside. 

“Look at you; taking it. That is a good girl.” You can feel his entire fist moving within you. It hurts so good; stretching you beyond capacity, it feels like both bliss and agony all at once. He pushes in deeper, impossibly deep. You can feel each knuckle rubbing against your inner walls as he teases his way within, looking for just the right spot.

“Can you be a very good girl for me?” Spout asks. Another finger traces where his wrist meets your sopping hole. As he presses gently against the stretched skin, he firmly flicks your clit with his thumb. 

“Fuuuuuuck!” Your entire body trembles with the force of your orgasm. You can feel it coming in waves. You shake and shudder, clenching and unclenching around Spout’s still steadily moving fist. He presses again and again against your g-spot from the inside, his thumb rubbing against your clit. It’s too much; you feel overwhelmed, your orgasm drawn impossibly long - or is it two merging into one? You can feel the tears streaming down your face. You clench around him again, wordlessly begging for mercy.

“Again.” He twists his wrist, rubbing and pulling and pushing and overwhelming you from every relentless point of contact. You can feel your own wetness gushing against him as you tremble and sob, surrendering completely to the skilled monster. You feel that blissful floating take over once more, the edge of your vision darkening as he overwhelms you one final time. “Good girl.” 

* * *

_ Everything hurts.  _ You wake up slowly. Your muscles feel like they are on fire. Your pussy, still wet, feels uncomfortably empty. “Ssh, just relax.” Spout’s fingers comb through your hair. You try to focus. You can feel those steady, magical fingers massaging your skin as he unties you knot by knot. You must make a noise, as a finger rests against your swollen lips. “Hush. Let me take care of you.”

The familiar smell of mint and aloe reaches you. Those wonderful, terrible hands press against each limb, massaging warmth back into you. You turn your head to watch as he meticulously continues rubbing you from neck to toes. “Thank you.” He meets your gaze with a smile. 

“I think I’m the one that should be saying that.” You manage to say, as your arms flop uselessly beside you. You feel so heavy and light at the same time; your body useless, your mind as though a great weight has been lifted. 

“Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He promises, pressing a tender kiss against the palm of your hand. A heavy weight settles in the pit of your stomach.  _ Please don’t say that. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors notes: This totally wasn’t even a chapter in my original plan. Like, there was no OC spider, there was no spider bondage scene. This entire thing was just meant to be a quick reflection/glossing over of the reader and her encounter with ‘some spider monster - an oc or swap Muffet?’ but then it got a bit expanded ._. Things will be back to the main pairings soon. Let me know what you thought in the comments below! 
> 
> This is like… the second ever thing I’ve written in present-tense, so I super apologise if I slip in any places~ I’m more used to third person, past tense. I thought I’d try challenging myself by getting outside of my comfort zone with a triple new challenge; new fandom, new pairings, new way of writing ^_^;


	7. Chapter Seven: Subdrop, Snacks, and Self-Reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors notes: I feel so ill right now T__T I seriously have had the cold from hell for like a week now~ my apologies for the shorter update (as well as for not updating sooner this week). Hopefully this darn cough and stuffy head can’t last that much longer D: 
> 
> On another sidenote: I’m about ⅓ of the way through my freelance backlog, and I’ve got about two weeks to clear it *winces* Once that has been cleared, I should be back up to 2-3 updates per week instead of 1. I will just be updating on AO3 now, just as I can’t seem to get the hang of DevArt/Tumblr, and there hasn’t been much interest on AFF/Wattpad (and I’m not even gonna try ff.net with these NSFW themes). I might try giving Wattpad another go, but… eh *shrugs* you guys on AO3 are the best c:
> 
> Oh, oh! Last thing I promise~ I haz Mutt art now ._. *grabby hands*
> 
> [Mutt art](http://sparklyotakugirl.tumblr.com/image/183172822882)

 

_So warm…_

It’s a little past three am when you awaken. Blinking blearily at the small, cheap digital clock beside the bed, it takes several long, sleep-logged moments for you to remember where you are. _Right. Spider-dude. Shibari. Not so great blowjob. Awesome fisting and multiple orgasms. I… am gonna be feeling that in the morning._

As you sit up, you bit your lip to hold in your hiss of pain. Everything aches; from your stiff neck to your throbbing pussy to the aching of your ankles. _Man, if I feel this rough with a massage and half-decent aftercare, how bad would I be feeling without it?_ You’re tempted to grab a shower, but you don’t want to risk waking up Spout.

Glancing at the other side of the bed, you smile; six of his arms are wrapped around your pillow, snuggling into the warmth you have left behind. _Thanks for the fun night, Spout. I’ve got a feeling I’m gonna be remembering it for quite some time._

You gather your things quickly, wrinkling your nose as you slip back into your dirty clothes. With each step, you can feel a deep, throbbing ache from where Spout thoroughly filled you up the night before. As your fingers brush over the tender bite marks left on your neck, you hiss. Hot to the touch and swollen, they send a different kind of throbbing through you. _Down girl. Now is not the time._

As you reach the door, you hesitate. _Would it really be so bad to stay the whole night? To wake up next to someone for a change?_ You shake your head, pressing the strap of your bag harshly against your bite marks. The sharp flash of pain helps to ground you once more. _Pull yourself together. That wasn’t the deal and you know it. You’re not even that into him. Don’t make this into something it isn’t._

It’s still dark outside as you begin making the walk of shame back to the tiny studio apartment you call home. You pull your coat closer around you to fight off the biting chill. _Do not waste money on an Uber at this time in the morning. Paying for everything is already gonna be tough enough this month without adding unnecessary expenses._

You hadn’t quite had enough to slip Spout half for the room, but you had tucked away the little cash you did have on you into his coat pocket. You knew, logically, he wasn’t expecting it, but it has always grated on you the way some people expect you not go halfsies, or to at least pay your own way.

_I don’t need anybody’s charity or pity. I am a strong, independent woman._ You snort to yourself. _I’ll have to remember that one when the electric gets cut off. Damnit me, this is why we can’t have nice things. Why do I always have to be so stubborn?_ The walk back seems to take twice as long as it did the previous afternoon before. As you approach the final block, you eye the open corner shop down the street.

_If it’s already going to be a tough couple of weeks, I might as well get something to help ease the way… no, no. That’s stupid._ You try talking yourself out of a late night - or should that be early morning - snack run. _It can’t really hurt to drop in, can it? Maybe I can take a peek at the rota to see if I can pick up any extra shifts next week…_

It may not be the best paying part-time job, but the sheer convenience alone convinced you it is worth the barely above minimum wage hourly rate. With shifts available around the clock and just a ten to fifteen-minute walkable commute no matter what the weather, you really can’t ask for a better second job. _Well, I could, but I’d be pretty goddamned lucky to find something to fit around everything else that wouldn’t cost a fortune in gas or public transport to get to at all hours._

Before you know it, you find yourself outside of the dim glow of the store. _What harm are a couple of bars of chocolate and some cheap wine really gonna do at this point?_ As you slip inside, an uneasy feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. The front counter appears to be unmanned. Your hands clench nervously around the strap of your bag, as you head straight for the chocolate isle.

_Don’t start this shit again. You just had a pretty darn good afternoon. Why the heck are you freaking out now?_ You admonish yourself, fingers skimming over the available bars as you select your favourite. _Sure, not everything was perfect - but perfection is a two-way street. You didn’t exactly have an A+ performance yourself._

You make your way to the far isle, scanning the bottles to see which is both cheapest and best value for money. _It’s just the subdrop talking. You know that._ For some reason, you can’t seem to dispel the ‘what ifs’ playing in your mind.

What if you had stayed? What if Spout wanted to see you again? What if things were different this time? What if he's The One?

You snort, shaking your head. You grab your chosen bottle before making your way to the partially obscured ‘Employees Only’ behind a stack of cereal boxes and empty delivery packaging. _He’s not even really my type._ Russet eyelights, a glint of gold teeth, and a plume of purple-tinged smoke come to the forefront of your mind. You pointedly ignore them. _Hasn’t there been enough pain and humiliation? Let’s not go through this shit again. One night stands or nothing; it’s safest this way._

“Always has been, always will be.” You murmur under your breath as you raise a hand to knock on the door. Raising your voice, you call out. “Hey Debs, you on shift tonight?” The silence stretches on. You listen out for any hint of movement. “Hello?” You punch your code into the keypad, peeking your head around the corner. You can’t see anyone in the stockroom, nor can you hear any telltale sounds coming from the cramped breakroom just beyond.

“Actual paying customer who could be robbing the store blind right now. Anyone on shift? Hello?” Slipping inside, you make your way across to the manager's office come security room. You knock on the door; no answer. Pushing your way inside, you glance at the security cameras. “Where the heck are you?”

_Should I call someone? I should totally call someone._ Grabbing the office phone, you quickly dial the manager’s number. “Er, Ken? Really sorry to be calling you so early, but I think you’re going to want to hear this.”

* * *

Thirty minutes later, you have four shiny new overtime shifts scheduled and a sneaky twenty slipped to you for your time, along with free wine and chocolate for your trouble, and the thanks of your second favourite boss. Even after checking the security footage, Ken still isn’t sure where Debbie has gone. One moment, she seemed to be slipping out the side door for a quick cigarette, then nothing.

_I really hope everything is ok. Maybe she just…_ Your thoughts trail off. _Maybe she just what? Why would she just up and leave mid-shift life that? Debs isn’t a flake. She doesn’t have a drug problem, she doesn’t have a scary ex. She’s always been reliable. What else could it be? I really hope she’s ok._

As you trudge up the final flight of stairs to your apartment, you can feel that the next few days are going to be long. _And painful._ You wince, rubbing your neck as you click the door shut behind you. Careful to pull across the extra two deadbolts and chain, you allow your shoulders to drop with a sigh. You ache everywhere.

Dropping your clothes behind you as you make a beeline for your bed, you glance at the clock. _If I manage to fall asleep pretty much immediately, I should get… three, maybe three and a half hours of sleep before my first class if I skip breakfast and splurge on a bus ticket._

You groan, face planting on your unmade bed. _Think happy thoughts. Think happy thoughts. At least these extra shifts will help offset my missed ones at the club, and… hey! Maybe I’ll be too tired to even remember what’s-his-face and his sexy gold fangs…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors note: oh my gosh I’m so sorry! This took me like a week to write a filler chapter T_T turns out my sniffles developed into a full on chest infection, which lead to blocked sinuses, which lead to a freaking perforated eardrum .___. I’m now halfway through my antibiotics, and I’m still deaf in one ear and coughing up what feels like at least a full lung, maybe two, but I’m at least on my way towards feeling better? Hoping to update again for the weekend, but we may be looking at early next week again unless I start feeling much better. Sorry guys :( *holes up with a duvet, soup, and all the tea*


	8. Chapter Eight: Workin’ Nine ‘Til Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors notes: Good news - I’m finally feeling better! Bad news - I just took on some extra freelance work (mama’s gotta pay the bills xD) so updates will still be a little slower than I’d like over the next couple of weeks, just until I’ve got the last of things submitted. I'm hoping to get back to a twice a week update schedule or more once things have got back to normal, but I'll be updating weekly in the meantime :)
> 
> I’m really disappointed, as I had something planned for international women’s day that I just didn’t get the time to finish for my other series, The Lovebird and the Pun-king. But, I’m still pretty happy that I at least made the weekly update for this~

_ It’s been days. It can’t still be sub drop. Is this what depression feels like?  _

Four hours into an eight-hour shift, it’s nearly one am and the store has been dead for the last hour. For once, the evening shift seem to have left things in fairly good order, meaning there’s little for you to do. Usually, you would relish the chance to squeeze in a little extra studying, but tonight you can’t seem to focus. Your mind keeps wandering back to your night with Spout.

_ What am I expecting really? It’s not like I’m even giving these doms the chance to provide proper aftercare. How the heck am I supposed to feel all sunshine and roses if I’m not even half-assing self-care? Of course I’m gonna feel like shit. Anyone would feel like shit. It’s why we have aftercare in the first place.  _

You stifle a yawn as it threatens to break free.  _ Note to self: eight-hour shifts after seven hours of classes and a two hour round commute? Not a good idea.  _

You feel exhausted. Everything aches; from the pounding headache and aching bite on your neck, down to your tired, swollen, and no doubt blistered feet.  _ Just gotta make it to five am, then I can have four whole hours sleep before my first class. Thank you sweet baby Jesus for late starts on Wednesdays.  _

You sweep the shop for customers just in case someone has slipped in whilst you were daydreaming, before slipping out from behind the counter. While Ken’s only your second favourite boss, he’s still pretty awesome; on long night shifts, he’s fine with staff grabbing a drink or sandwich from the cooler - as long as you still keep an eye on the counter.  _ I’m gonna need, like, the biggest can of Monster and one of those meat feast subs if we’ve got any left. Urg; why do all energy drinks taste like shit? They even smell nasty. _

Browsing your options, you make a mental note of which drinks could do with topping up after your very late dinner. You’ll never admit it, but the free food and short distance between the store and your studio had sold you on the job; the nearly dead shifts and slightly above minimum wage (anything above minimum wage is, you realised while searching, depressingly rare) are just icing on the cake.

_ Well, if you ignore the occasional drunk customer, shoplifters, Debs unexplained disappearance, the understaffing… _

Popping the tab as you go, your eyes slide closed as you take a long gulp of your drink.  _ Once I’ve caught up on bills and built a bit more of a savings buffer, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to give the whole… well, not dating thing another shot. God no. But would a regular play partner be so bad?  _

Downing half the mega can in one long pull, you wince as the taste. “Why do all Monsters taste so fucking awful?” You groan, resting the can on the side of the counter. Stretching, you let out a long, low sigh of satisfaction at the loud pop your back gives. “That’s bett-errr…”

_ Fuck.  _

You freeze in place. A tall, purple monster made entirely of fire is staring at you from the front of the store. You can feel your cheeks burning.

“Oh my god, I mean the drink! I’m  _ so _ sorry. I didn’t mean all monsters - not that I think about how monsters taste - not that I  _ don’t  _ think about it, I’m not some species-ist or something, I-I” you trip over your words. 

_ Why am I such a dumpster fire? _

_ “ _ I’m just going to shut up now and let you get back to your shopping. Please, um, let me know if you need anything. I’m sorry there isn’t anyone else on shift to help you instead…” Looking down, you stumble over your apology as you slip back behind the counter.  _ See, this is why I don’t have real friends. How do I manage to fuck things up like this every time? C’mon, me! Don’t let this awkward shit spread into work-time too! _

You try not to stare as the purple fire elemental silently walks through the store. If you weren’t so busy berating yourself, you would almost certainly be appreciating his rather dapper outfit.  _ Who wears dress pants, a shirt and waistcoat at one am on a weeknight? And how is it even possible for fire to look so handsome? Oh wait - is that speciest? Stop objectifying the customers!  _

Busying yourself behind the counter, you continue to silently berate yourself. You let out a groan as you reach up to rub your face. “Fuck, I can still feel myself blushing. What is wrong with me tonight? I can’t get this flustered everytime someone hot walks-fuck I did it again!” You slap both hands over your mouth a second too late. He’s standing in front of you again. 

_ Is… is he laughing at me? Please tell me that’s laughter not rage.  _

_ “ _ Please tell me you are an exhaustion-fueled figment of my imagination.” You ask hopefully. You press the palms of your hands against your eyes, rubbing until little black spots start floating behind your closed eyelids. Peek out between your fingers.  _ Welp, he’s real. Double crap. _

“I am so, so sorry. We don’t have any feedback forms or anything, but if you want to leave a complaint for my manager, I can totally give you his number - er, though he may not pick up for another few hours…”

“That’s quite alright.” His voice is low and smooth, reminding you instantly of a wood-crackling fire and long, cosy nights spent in a log cabin.  _ Or, well, what long cosy nights in a log cabin look like in movies.  _

You begin scanning his items quickly, placing them gently into the reusable string tote he places alongside his purchases. You peek up at him as you work, your brow furrowing.  _ He looks kind of familiar…  _

As you hit total, instead of asking if there’s anything else you can help with, you blurt out  _ “ _ Do I know you from somewhere?” You can feel your cheeks burning again. You watch as the flames that make up his face flicker and fluctuate, the deep purple darkening to more of an indigo hue. “You know what? That was rude of me. Just pretend I was never here. Sleepy me should not be allowed around people.” 

_ Please don’t be mad enough to complain, hotstuff. I really need this job.  _

“-Sweet Release?” You stare at him blankly. As the pause stretches, quickly turning awkward, he speaks up again. “My apologies. I must be mistaken.” Tipping his head, he gently places his money on the counter, careful to avoid touching you..

“Ah. No? Oh! Is that where I’ve seen you before?” You finally catch on.  _ He does look kind of familiar.  _ You wreck your memory, trying to place him. “Sunday evenings, right? Baileys comet, hold the flaming rum?” 

He nods, the flames around his small spectacles creasing.  _ Ooooh that is a smile. Damn, he’s hot like burning. Heh. Burning. Wait… is that speciest? Someone should really write a handbook. _

“You remembered.” He sounds pleased. You smile, nodding as you count his change. “It’s been a while.”

“Oh, yeah. I had to miss a couple of shifts. I should be back this weekend though; I didn’t think anyone would notice one of the bartenders missing.” You laugh, hands reaching to twist in the hen of your bland uniform shirt. Your stomach flutters pleasantly at the thought you have somehow caught his attention.  _ Calm the fuck down. He’s not even flirting. He’s probably just an observant guy. That, or someone fucked up his order last time I wasn’t in.  _

“I cannot speak for everyone, but it did not feel the same without you.” You look down, blushing.  _ Is that an untied bowtie? Fuck. How have I not noticed him properly before?  _

A bubble of nervous laughter escapes before you can stop it. “Oh, you’re too kind, mister - er..”  _ Crap. Please tell me I didn’t forget his name! _

“Grillby.” He fills in for you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Grillbae.”  _ Wait what did I just say?  _ “Fuck! I meant Grillby. Oh gods just kill me now.” You whimper.

“I usually prefer to get to know someone before things progress to pet names and… heat up.” He says so sincerely, it takes a moment for his words to really register with you. You can feel a smile curling at the corner of your lips.

“Oh really now? You prefer to make sure you’ve found the perfect **match** before you consider **playing with fire**? I bet a date with you would be… really **lit.”** _Two can play at that game. Wow… his laugh is to die for. I wonder what it would feel like against my - gah, down girl!_

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” Reaching into his pocket, Grillby pulls out a cellphone. You automatically to take it, shivering at the warmth radiating from his fingers pause a hair's breadth away from you.  _ No, no, no. Just a little bit further.  _

“Er…” It feels like your brain is stuck on blue screen. “I don’t really… date. It’s not a monster thing! I’m just… I’m not really good at the whole vanilla thing. If you’re looking for a good time, I’m your gal. I’m more of a  **tinder** and thrill, than a netflix and chill kinda girl. If you’d like to get together to discuss limits sometime?” You offer as you type in your number. 

“I have been called many things, but vanilla is not one of them.” As Grillby smiles at you, a flash of one pointed, perfect white fang peeks out from between his flames. You bite your lip, anticipation warring with nerves. 

_ I wonder how those would feel against my bare skin… _

“I prefer my partners to be open to a little more commitment than a single night of  **burning** passion. Please do not think I am asking for commitment or exclusivity. When you get to a certain age and level of experience, I have found things are that much more… intense, when both parties truly has the chance to get to understand what  **stokes the fires** of their interest, and allows for dynamics to form more organically.”

Glancing down at the phone, you hesitate.  _ I really don’t want to lead him on. He’s… If I’d met someone like him a couple of years ago, I would have jumped at the chance to get to know him better. Would it really be so bad to give things another shot? _

“If that does not make you comfortable, I-“

Your hands tighten around his phone as Grillby reaches out. You take a moment to study his face; for a man made entirely of fire, his expression seems surprisingly open. 

“Partial disclosure: I work, like, all hours of the day. And night. And I’ve got classes, so fitting in an actual date might be a pain in the ass. It’s… been a while since I’ve done something like this. I’m not promising anything, but…” you take a deep, shuddering breath. “I’d really like to get to know you better. Heck, anyone who still wants to try talking to me after I’ve put my foot in my mouth this badly is worth getting to know a lot better, let alone someone as  **smoking hot** as you. Just… don’t expect too much?”

_ Nooo, don’t give him an easy out! What are you saying? Climb that hot piece of ass like a tree. Don’t go sharing mushy feelings and personal crap. Nobody really wants to hear that shit.  _

“I work long hours myself. There is no need to worry.” As he smiles as you, you can feel yourself melting. “I will give you a call at a more reasonable hour. I do hope next time we meet, I can convince you that not all monsters taste quite so ‘awful’.”

_ I’m never going to live that one down, am I? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s notes 2: Sooo… Originally you were meant to just have a one-night stand with Grillby. Then I started looking at Grillby fanart, and… there are feelz, ok? I swear this will get back to Mutt/Reader/Blackberry, just let’s all fangirl at Grillby for a lil’ bit, kay?
> 
> I’ve totally written him more as regular Undertale Grillby rather than proper Underswap or Fellswap Grillby. I… haven’t read enough Underswap Grillby to be apologetic; I like my fire elementals as well-mannered as they are well-dressed. #IWillFightYouOnThis


End file.
